


Don't Choose Sides

by demonheathen (ElliGrovster)



Series: Civil War Custody [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Civil War but custody battle, F/M, I wish I could stop with these bisexual series, M/M, Multi, Strained Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, Tony Needs a Hug, adopted kids, multiple trysts, think of the children, where is the trust.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:52:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliGrovster/pseuds/demonheathen
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can't make everything work. At least that's the case with Steve and Tony. And the ones to suffer the most are their children.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve takes back on his vows.

_For better or worse._

Steve could repeat that phrase in his thoughts a thousand times in a day, but it never made what happened actually  _better_. This seemed to be the last straw of the day, just a constant take from his husband and no actual give from him. 

He forced his feet into his dress shoes then pulled on his suit jacket and grabbed his keys. Stepping out of his room, Steve stopped in front of his daughter's. He poked his head in to check on her. 

"I'll be home later, okay? Peter and Vis aren't here tonight so you'll have to fend for yourself for dinner." Steve hated leaving Wanda home alone, if only for a couple of hours because it wasn't healthy for her. 

All she ever did was stay in her room, reading Wiccan tales and lighting candles. He had to check on her a couple times just to make sure she wasn't butchering her hair or worse. 

"Okay. Where are you off to?" Wanda couldn't hide her accent. It was ingrained in her, despite the years of group homes and different dialected foster parents. 

"Just...out for a little bit. If Tony gets home before me, tell him not to wait up." Steve tapped his fingers to the door and gave Wanda a gentle smile, "Be good." 

"Please," Wanda retorted, "I'm always good. Love you." 

"You too." Steve slipped out of Wanda's doorway then went downstairs. The rest of the house was quiet without Tony's boys around, and cleaner. Steve stopped by the kitchen counter to sift through a few envelopes of mail then grabbed a pen. He turned over an envelope addressed to Tony, one concerning the update of his shop, and wrote: 

'I needed a drink, and you weren't home. I'll see you later. -s' 

Steve searched his pockets then went over his mental checklist before walking to the front door. He stepped outside to the aromatic spring air and locked the door behind him, still telling himself that what he was doing was fine. 

 

He sat down at the counter of the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks with a couple of bites to his inside drink. Steve was never one to turn down a challenge, and the sourest whiskey was no different. The ambiance around him was uneven, with loud talkers against smokers and pool sharks lining up shots. It almost distracted him from the outrageous price of a cheap alcohol. Almost. 

If anything, it just kept him sober enough to not buy another. 

Steve reached to take another sip as a stranger sat down next to him. But not a stranger. A ghost from the past. He could barely keep his eyes from glancing over and piecing the person together, to make sure it wasn't himself or the alcohol that was casting hallucinations, playing tricks on him. 

Steve could swear that this person skipped town, that he wasn't actually sitting next to him, giving off the familiar and crisp scent of original Old Spice, clean linen and sweat.  _No._ _It couldn't be him._

"Now, as my memory recalls, you're not a whiskey person." The voice to his left spoke up, and it shook Steve down. He gulped, not wanting to look at the face but wanting to remember what color his eyes were. 

His memory escaped him, and the question agitated him more and more, only for him to give in and look. Even staring straight into them, Steve couldn't decide in whether they were more blue than green. 

"Still not," Steve choked out, regretting the words as they left his lips. Facing him, the ghost of his past, he couldn't look away again. He wanted to take him in more, like he'd forget the next time just like when he left. 

He held his glass in his hand, his lips curling into a polite smile. Bucky reached and took the glass from him. 

"Let me get your next drink," he offered, taking a sip of Steve's drink with soft smack of his lips. 

Steve felt his body perk up slightly just by seeing Bucky's lips contort against the smooth rim of the glass. He didn't know why, and realizing he'd done it caused him to look away. 

"That's okay," Steve said, shaking his head, "Just keep it." 

Steve couldn't bare but fight himself as he sat, letting Bucky take long pulls from his whiskey and eye him. He felt his eyes on him, stopping at moments to punctuate with a lick of his lips or biting the same. 

Bucky set the glass down before him, shifting sideways in his seat to get a better view of Steve. "You're looking good, kid." Steve couldn't answer but only gulped, giving a bob of his head in acknowledgement. 

"I mean," Bucky reached to turn Steve's seat to face him, restarting his once-over from the man's thick thighs and up to his broad shoulders, only narrow his eyes at Steve's face. He pursed his lips together to mouth a soft 'ooh', remembering bedroom thoughts from a past forgotten. "Really good." 

"Thanks," Steve said, nervous as he looked down to his lap. He'd tucked his hand in his pants pocket, turning his band on his left finger timidly. It reminded him to stay level. "You too," he responded, and he wasn't lying. 

The Bucky he'd grown up with was still there, at the core, behind a heavy stubble, long hair that framed his face and a couple of good meals. Steve couldn't let his eyes drift past the man's neck, knowing that he'd immediately look to his metal fingers and not his sturdily built frame. 

"So," Bucky began, slipping towards the edge of his seat to stare into Steve's eyes, "What're you doing tonight?" 

Steve froze, knowing that he'd need to tell the truth. Tell Bucky he was married now, tell him that he was just out for a drink. But all Steve wanted to tell was how unhappy he was, and how he wanted a break from things. 

"N-nothing," Steve said, not a whole lie but enough of one to cause his stomach to flip. 

Bucky's hand slipped from the chair and up to Steve's knee, petting over it softly, "Is that so?" 

_What are you doing here? I'm married. I'm married to Tony. I love him. I do. For better or worse._

Steve didn't want Bucky's hand to move away or further, he didn't want the man to retreat or advance. He couldn't make a move. His breathing hitched in his throat. 

Bucky shifted a bit closer, enough to share a few breaths with Steve. "You wanna...come back to my place?" 

_No. No, I can't. I need to get home or something. Anything than be here._

Steve's throat went dry, blinking slowly as he eased a breath from his lips. "Yes." 

 

Steve followed Bucky into the elevator of his apartment, occupying the farthest corner away from him. The small talk was bleak, and not once did Steve mention the band on his finger. Halfway up to Bucky's apartment, he casually slipped his ring into his pants pocket, holding back the sickened feeling in his gut when the weight of the band was lifted from his finger. 

Bucky kept staring at Steve, like he was reliving the past in his head. The more he looked at Steve, the more he could chalk up the difference from before, if only noting the similar build between them. 

The elevator came to a halt on Bucky's floor and, as the door slid open, he led Steve to his apartment marked '5A'. Bucky's casual demeanor was entrancing to Steve, as it always was. It was always how Bucky lured him in. 

He opened the front door wide, allowing light to spill into the dark studio apartment as he dropped his keys into the bowl by the front door. Steve froze at the threshold, watching as Bucky disappeared into the shadows, only for his silhouette to be highlighted by the streetlight streaming into the window. 

Steve's mouth watered, making him trip up and stammer. Bucky padded his hand to the wall and flipped on the light switch in the kitchen. 

"How about some good whiskey?" Bucky asked, opening a cabinet over his head to grab two plain glasses. The question drew Steve in, and he shut the door behind him with a clearing of his throat. 

"Sure," Steve said, slowly crossing the open floor to stop halfway. He watched Bucky fix the glasses, search his cabinets for his liquor, and pour a healthy amount of brown alcohol into both. Steve licked his lips, watching as Bucky bent down to shelve his alcohol then straighten up to eye both glasses. 

He turned around, holding out a glass for Steve to take. Steve cut down the distance between them, taking the whiskey in a hand. "Thank you." 

Bucky grinned, slowly pulling his hand up to brush two fingers over Steve's blond hair. "No problem, kid." He retracted his hand to take a pull of his drink, still looking at Steve over the rim of his glass. "You been good?" 

Steve forced a breath out, still nervous, "As I can be." 

Bucky nodded, eyes softening the longer he watched Steve, "Good." He leaned in quickly, too quickly for Steve to acknowledge until a pair of whiskey-tainted lips were against his.  _Warm._

Steve's hand reached out while his mouth didn't accommodate Bucky's, "Hey..." 

Bucky stepped closer to Steve, "What?" His question was eased and curious, his breath snaking its way across Steve's face and down his chin. 

Steve looked from Bucky's eyes then to his lips.  _We can't_. His hand grazed up Bucky's chest, along his shoulder before curling into the nape of his chest. Steve shook his head, only pulling Bucky back into him for another kiss. 

The whiskey glass slipped from his hand as Steve reached to take grip of Bucky's burgundy shirt. The scent of alcohol exploded into the air with the glass shattering to the floor. Steve pushed Bucky up against the kitchen counter, fixating on his lips before slipping in his tongue. 

Bucky set his glass away, then reached to shrug off Steve's suit jacket. Steve allowed him to do so, dropping his arms from Bucky to shake his jacket to the floor. Returning his hold onto Bucky, Steve felt his rough hands along his cheek and down to his neck. 

Bucky clenched his fingers into Steve's neck, his thumbs brushing along the underside of his jaw as he pulled him away. Steve almost begged from his breathlessness for Bucky to keep going but teased his tongue along his top lip to remember the taste. Bucky opened his eyes with a grin, then steadied himself before grabbing Steve by his middle, hoisting him over his shoulder. 

Steve's eyes widened as his hands braced the small of Bucky's back, watching intently the way that his ass looked in dark jeans. If he swore, Steve knew it'd be for a good reason. Bucky carried him to his bed, setting Steve on his back before climbing over him. 

Bucky returned his lips to Steve's, a hand immediately reaching between his legs to rub at his bulge. Steve hid a moan against Bucky's lips, a hand bracing his shoulder at the same time of fumbling with his shirt buttons. Bucky kicked off his boots, then eased Steve out of his dress shoes. He pulled away another time with a deep exhale. 

Bucky straightened up over Steve, reaching between his shoulders to tug his long-sleeve from his body. "Get naked." 

Steve's body perked up harder, his hand reaching to run over Bucky's naked chest, noting the faded scars between abs. Bucky leaned into Steve with an intense stare, "Get naked." 

Steve slowly nodded, not wanting to show how much he liked the orders from Bucky. He pulled off his dress shirt and tossed it away before reaching for the buckle of his pants. Bucky did the same, unfastening his jeans before tugging Steve's pants down his thighs. 

His hand rubbed over Steve's lean stomach and further down until his fingers tried under his waistband. Steve's eyes slowly fluttered close, silently willing for Bucky to keep going. Willing for Bucky to touch him. 

Bucky kept creeping his hand down, leaning into Steve with a peck of the lips. His hand grazed over Steve's thickening member, then took grip with a soft tug. Steve moaned against Bucky's lips, his neck craning back. 

"K-keep going," Steve said, begging almost, as his hand reached for Bucky's wrist. 

A deviant grin creeped onto Bucky's lips, repeating with a few more timid tugs before working up a rhythm. He lined his lips down Steve's prolonged neck then reached to fix his look ahead. Bucky taunted his tongue against Steve's open mouth, wanting the connection to return. Steve leaned into him, pressing his lips to Bucky's with another moan. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve goes too far, Wade is concerned for Peter and Tony has enough.

Bucky continued to stroke, causing Steve's brain to fire off in explosive synapses. He breathed into Bucky, almost at a pant, as his back arched into him and let him keep going. Bucky shifted his hand away from Steve's face, using it to tug Steve's boxers down before shifting his knee to finish the job. 

The manufactured heat of the room was no match between the men's heavy breathing, and the silence was combatted with sloppy kisses and harsh moans. The light from the kitchen illuminated half of Bucky's face and, when Steve pulled away, he could see the sultry smirk return to his lips. Steve felt the soft sheets against his back and bare ass, his free hand pinching at them rather than shift Bucky out of his jeans. 

Slowly, Bucky removed his hand from Steve's member and tugged his pants down. He opened his mouth, resting four of his fingers on his thick tongue before sliding it up Steve's thigh, parting his cheeks and circling his hole. "I don't think you're ready for me yet." 

Steve lifted his hips slightly as Bucky toyed with him, releasing a couple of swears beneath his breath when Bucky stopped. Bucky leaned across Steve, feeling his hardened member against his stomach, then pulled open the top drawer of his bedside table. Steve's eyes followed Bucky's hand as he search through the shallow drawer for something. When Bucky found what he was looking for, he flipped the top open and scooped out a healthy amount of petroleum jelly. 

"Assume the position," Bucky ordered, to which Steve unconsciously obliged, shifting onto his stomach and hiking a knee up with the spreading of his legs. Bucky chuckled lowly, sliding his hand back to its righful place before freeing himself. He shifted over Steve, lining up as his hand eased his member into him. Steve released a long exclaim of pleasure and slight pain the further Bucky slid in. His eyes reeled back as his hands gripped the sheets, allowing Bucky to fill him. 

Bucky huffed in amazement, his hands gripping at Steve's ass the further he went in. Steve's back concaved into the bed, then returned as Bucky slid out an inch, only to work up an agonizingly slow rhythm, one that caused Steve to crave relentlessness. 

 

The next morning, Steve woke up with his head against Bucky's chest. The sun leered in through the bare windows and Bucky's hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. Steve's eyes blinked to focus on where they were, only for him to freeze as he sat up.  _No._  

The night came rushing back into Steve's memory with exclusive touch and taste. He could still feel Bucky's hot breath rolling down his shoulders as his sweaty chest slicked against Steve's back. 

Steve pressed his hand to his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair.  _Tony's gonna kill me._  He couldn't shake the thought, it was the only thing that brought a heavy damper on him. Steve felt that the overlooming thought of Tony finding out was worse than any hangover he could've had, but didn't. 

Steve glanced over his shoulder to Bucky as he shifted onto his side. Bucky's tired arm reached over Steve's bare lap and curled around his waist. "Good morning," he muttered halfway into the pillow. If it were any other circumstance, Steve would've rolled back into bed at the rough rasp of Bucky's voice. But Steve was still himself and he remembered his life. 

 _If I spent the night here, that means I left Wanda home alone._ A sweat broke out down Steve's neck, and he knew that if Wanda was very concerned, she'd tell Tony. 

"I think I should go," Steve responded, not even bothering to give Bucky any pleasantries. Even though that was all Bucky gave him the night before. 

"No, stay," Bucky urged softly, turning his face up from the pillow to give Steve his full attention. His eyes reflected the bright sun outside along with his soft, pink lips turned in a grin. "Just a little longer." 

Steve shook his head, "N-no. I should...I should go." He exhaled, looking at Bucky so comfortable in his bed. Steve almost gave Bucky praise for how he felt this morning, how wonderful he felt last night, but he chewed on his inside cheek and shifted out of Bucky's hold. 

He leaned over Bucky and gave him a light peck on the forehead, then climbed out of bed to find his clothes. Bucky sat up on his side, forcing his hair from his face while he watched Steve wrestle back into his boxers, then dress pants. 

"And where are you in such a rush to go off to?" Bucky asked while Steve stamped his feet back into his dress shoes and hastily button his dress shirt. 

Steve couldn't think of a good excuse, looking back at Bucky before turning in an anxious circle to find his suit jacket. 

"In the kitchen," Bucky said, throwing back his sheets and shifting to the edge of his bed. He picked up his boxers and slid them on, still eyeing Steve as he bent down to pick up his jacket. Steve picked away the shards of glass on his jacket, then shook it free of the excess whiskey soaked into it.  _Tony's gonna kill me._

"I-uh-I have to get to work," Steve said, another half-lie to add to the rest of them. 

"I'm gonna see you again, aren't I?" Bucky pushed off from his bed and crossed the cold floor in his bare feet. Steve warned for Bucky to be careful because of the glass, but he didn't listen. "I'd like to see you again." 

Bucky reached to grab at Steve's hips, backing him up to the kitchen counter. His brows were raised suggestively while his eyes scanned Steve over another time. Steve couldn't breathe. 

"I..." Steve tried, looking at Bucky's face, remembering the color of his eyes again.  _More blue than green._ "Yes. You'll see me again." 

Inside, Steve beat himself up, over and over again. He wanted to grab himself by the shoulders and headbutt some sense into himself. But he was putty around Bucky, and he liked the way it felt. 

"Okay." Bucky nodded, leaning in to peck Steve's lips. Steve let him while his hand slipped into his pant pocket for  his ring. His fingers grazed the bottom of his pocket, only catching lint in his fingernails. Steve pulled away with a short gasp.  _Where's my ring?_ He thought to himself, more panic arising in his chest. Steve gave Bucky a smile, his lips pressed together to hide them from creasing with worry. 

He looked over Bucky's shoulder, around the bare apartment and figured it only had a few places to be. It could only be on the floor somewhere, but Steve was too ready to leave for him to paw around on the ground for his wedding band. 

"What's the matter, kid?" Bucky reached up to run a couple of his fingers along Steve's jaw, but he flinched away. 

"I-I lost my ring," Steve said, not explaining the importance of the jewelry by giving it the proper name.  _Wedding band. I lost my wedding band._

His stomach somersaulted within him as Bucky took a step back, "Your ring?" 

"Y-yes." Steve watched as Bucky's eyes narrowed at him. He tilted his face towards the fridge to the left of him, but turned to look at Steve again. 

"What kind of ring?" 

Steve shook his head.  _Please, don't make me say it. You know what kind of ring._  He shut his eyes tightly and prodded his tongue between his lips, "My wedding band." 

Bucky's gaze shifted to the floor with a huff, "Married?" 

Steve bobbed his head, looking down at his feet. "I-I had fun last night, I swear, but...yeah, I'm married." Bucky backed away from Steve with a huff, then went to his beside drawer to retrieve a pencil and scrap of paper. 

"Give me your number," Bucky urged, returning to Steve and forcing the pencil in his hand. "I'll call you if I find it." 

"Buck..." Steve began, only for Bucky to raise a hand. 

"Just, write it down," Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair again. "I'll just meet you somewhere later and drop it off to you. Doubt you'd want me showing up at your house." 

Steve readjusted the pencil in his hand and wrote down his phone number. "If someone, anyone else but me picks up, just tell them you're my sparring partner." 

Bucky shook his head, watching Steve hurriedly scribble out his number, "Fine, kid." He took the piece of paper as Steve held it out for him, staring at the messily-written numbers under Steve's name. "Go. Get out of here. Don't need your wife throwing a fit." 

 _Husband._ "Okay," Steve said, stopping on his way out to peck Bucky's cheek. "I still want to see you again." 

Bucky didn't turned to Steve, only giving him a half-cocked nod. "Yeah." 

Steve lifted up Bucky's chin and stared into his more-blue-than-green eyes, "I mean it." He leaned in to kiss Bucky's soft lips then patted his jacket pocket for his keys.

 

Steve parked in the driveway of his home, only feeling the anxiety in his chest rise the more he sat still. Tony's car was parked in front of the garage and, Steve could only guess, Peter's car was stationed in the garage. He climbed out of the car with a huff, then slammed the door behind him. 

Steve felt dread in every step he took towards the front door, wondering if the first thing Tony would smell on him was another man. He reached for his house key, only to find the front door unlocked. Wanda, Peter, Wade and Vis were sat around the kitchen table, eating breakfast. Steve looked to his left and saw Tony in the kitchen with a hulk-of-a-man apron tied around him. 

"Hey," Steve said, shutting the front door behind him. He set his keys on the hook by the door and shrugged off his whiskey-stained jacket. 

From the kitchen table, Wanda grinned and waved at her father. Peter and Wade gave Steve a nod of acknowledgement while Vis actually greeted him. 

"Hi Steve," he said, his mouth full of jelly-toast. 

Steve forced a smile onto his face, then looked over the kids at the table. He rounded the counter to Tony, wrapping his arms around his waist with a kiss on the cheek. 

"Honey, when did we get another kid?" He asked, referring to Wade, with a cheek hashed with burns. 

Tony shook his head, "Wade's only here for breakfast." He didn't acknowledge the scent of Steve's clothes nor the kiss on his cheek. 

Steve hummed, then reached around Tony to pick up a piece of crispy bacon, only for Tony to swat him away. 

"Kids," Tony began and Steve froze, almost hearing the exact way Bucky had said that word, "finish up, then head upstairs. You'll be late for school." 

Wanda finished her bowl of cereal, then stood up to put her dishes in the sink. She walked past Steve and gave him a subtle wink, as if to say his secret was safe with her. Peter picked up his and Wade's plate then followed his sister's lead with Wade to follow. 

Steve let go of Tony and leaned over Vis to give him a kiss atop his head. He brushed down the youngest's hair then let him get up to leave. 

On the stairs, Wade caught up to Pete. "Your dads are acting pretty weird. Is everything okay?"

Peter shook his friend's question away, "They're fine. They're always like this." 

Wade furrowed his brows, following Peter into his room. He shut the door behind them and raised his voice above a whisper. "Are you sure?" 

Peter grabbed his backpack from his desk and nodded. "Dude, just let it go." He went around his room to pick up his physics textbook, catcher's mitt and homework. "They're fine. Steve always acts weird like that." 

Wade sat on the edge of Peter's bed and watched his friend dodge the question. "Are you okay?" 

"Wade, can we just drop it?" Peter was starting to get agitated with his friend's line of questioning. It only bothered Wade that Pete denied to answer. 

"Peter..." 

"I mean it, Wade. Let it go," Peter urged, looking up from stuffing his bag to narrow his eyes at his friend. 

"Fine. As long as you're okay," he continued. 

"Wade." Peter stopped what he was doing to exhale, irritated. 

Wade raised his hands up in defeat, "Okay. Never mind." 

Downstairs, Steve found a place at the kitchen table, reaching for a plate of toast, only for Tony to quickly take it away. 

"What's that for?" Steve asked, reaching for a slice of breakfast ham on another plate, only for Tony to smack it out of his hand. "Tony." 

"Don't," Tony began, slamming both plates down on the counter before resting his hands on the top with a huff, "Don't 'Tony' me, Steve." 

"What did I do?" Steve regretted the question as soon as it came out, every instance just leading back to him with Bucky. 

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve, then reached behind him to untie his apron. Steve watched as Tony took off his apron, slammed it down on the counter then hit the play button on the phone message recorder.  _Please god, no._

"Hi, uh, Tony. I don't know if you're home or not, but Steve just left here with a bit too much to drink," A voice came out of the machine, clear as day. But it wasn't Bucky. It was the bartender. "I just wanted to let you know, he's got a friend that's putting him in the car, but I don't think he should drive." Tony hit the pause button the machine. 

"Really? Drunk driving? The hell is wrong with you?" Tony's voice boomed through the kitchen. He always had a presence that was loud even at normal range. 

"Honey..."

"Don't you bullshit me, Steve. You could've gotten yourself killed." Tony exhaled loudly, turning around in a circle as he pressed his hand to his forehead.

"I-I didn't go far, if it makes you feel better. Just pulled off to the side of the road and slept," Steve said. He felt this not a whole lie sit on his heart and weigh him down. If it ever got easier for him, Steve knew it wouldn't be fair. 

"How far was that?' Tony asked, leaning against the kitchen counter to glare at Steve. 

"Just...down the road from the bar. I stopped in an alley and slept it off. No harm, no foul," Steve explained, using his right hand to accentuate his on the spot lie. "Tony, I'm sorry. I...wanted to get back to you before you got home, but I made a mistake." 

Tony nodded, "Yeah, yeah you did." He walked over and planted his lips to Steve's forehead, "Don't be such an idiot next time." Tony reeled back and punched Steve square in the shoulder. Steve spared a wince to make Tony feel better, when it didn't even hurt. 

"Got it. I'll try my hardest to not act on my stupidity." Steve nodded, tilting his head back to look at Tony. His hand reached up to scratch gently at his husband's beard, "What time did you get in last night?" 

"A little bit after eleven. Rhodes was trying to show me this new project we should take on. I was not sold," Tony said, his eyes looking up to the ceiling as he pursed his lips. "Nope, still not sold." 

Steve shook his head at Tony, "I bet Rhodes worked very hard on that." 

Tony draped his arms over Steve's shoulders and bobbed his head side-to-side, "Still, it was crap." 

"Tony." Steve narrowed his eyes, "Language." He reached around to give Tony a light tap on the ass and Tony grinned. 

"Gotta pick your battles, Steve." Tony leaned in and scrunched his nose, "You still reek of whiskey. Go take a shower." 

Steve agreed, shifting out of his seat to tower over Tony. He stretched his arms over his head and turned to take a whiff of his collar, "You're right. You mind fixing me a plate for breakfast? Then I'll take the kids to school." 

"Sounds good to me." 

Steve gave Tony another peck on the cheek, then grabbed his suit jacket from the front door and went upstairs. He stopped by each of the kids' rooms to give them a twenty minute warning before walking into his room and releasing a deep exhale. He stuffed his jacket into the dirty clothes hamper, then his dress shirt before kicking off his shoes and setting them in the closet. Steve walked to the bathroom, started the shower on hot water and took off his pants, still feeling the slickness of makeshift lube on him. 

Downstairs, Tony set aside a plate of toast, bacon, ham and eggs in the microwave then cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. As he put away the leftovers of the meal, the phone began to ring. 

"God," Tony said, "Give me a minute." He told to the phone, only for it to continue ringing excessively. He pulled out three brown paper bags for the kids' lunches while the phone continued.

"Didn't I say 'give me a minute'? How important could it be?" Tony muttered to himself, pulling out the rest of the breakfast ham and bacon to make his boys sandwiches. Wanda was harder to make lunch for, and he grabbed a pre-packaged salad from the fridge for her to take. 

When Tony finally reached for the phone, it stopped ringing. The message machine beeped. 

"Hi, you've reached the Stark-Rogers residence. We can't come to the phone right now. Please, leave a message after the beep." The recorded message said, followed by a long tone. Tony returned to his task, figuring that it would be a telemarketer calling. 

"Hey, uh, Steve. I hope you get this. I...found your ring, it was under my bed. I guess it fell down there when you...yeah. Now that I think about it, I should've just waited for another time to call. Anyways, I'll just keep it here until you call me back. Call me back, kid." 

Tony froze in the door of the fridge, straightening up and looking back at the machine. It had to be playing tricks on him, because what Steve said was the truth. He shut the refrigerator and returned to the machine, hitting play again on its most recent message. 

"Hey, uh, Steve. I hope you get this, I...found your ring, it was under my bed." Tony reached to pause the message before it went any further, already remembering what the first message said. He shut his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath, not sure if he wanted any more confirmation that the message was real. He hit play again, "I guess it fell down there when you...yeah. Now that I think about it, I should've just waited for another time to call." 

Tony hit the pause button again as he heard footsteps come down the stairs. He waited until Steve trampled down the rest of the stairs and to the back of the house, towards the laundry room. His skin was slick and wet, with a towel tucked around his waist. 

"Have you seen my favorite shirt?" Steve called out to Tony in the kitchen, only for Tony to follow him into the laundry room. Tony folded his lips together, leaning against the doorway of the laundry room to watch Steve rummage through the dryer. 

He couldn't find any words to say, only stared intensely at the back of Steve's head, he wished he had lasers. Inside, Tony questioned how someone so perfect could be so imperfect at the exact same time. He wondered if Steve got any good rest the night before, or if he were up all night giving it to a stranger. 

Tony felt heated at the same time his clenched fists ran cold. He couldn't make sense of his emotions inside, just a tidal wave of rage and upset at once. Tony wasn't even sure what he was so upset about at first. The surface had to be that Steve took off his ring, then that he lost it, then the fact that he gave his whore their phone number. But the more that Tony stared and delved into the complexity of why he was so upset about it, it wasn't that Steve lied to his face, or even cheated. It was that it didn't even weigh him down so much to profess the absolute guilt. 

It felt like Tony was being played with, and Steve didn't care.

"I think it's in the washer," Tony said. He couldn't even fight Steve if he wanted to, only for the fact that Steve wouldn't even bother to put up a fight. Tony knew that Steve would only lie back and take it, take all that Tony's measly hits had to offer and wouldn't even try to fight back. Because it meant so little to him. 

"Thanks, honey," Steve said, opening the washer and rifling through the damp contents. 

"Y-you know what? I'll take the kids to school. Don't even worry about it." Tony waved a hand to Steve. 

Steve turned over his shoulder, "Are you sure? Because I can always wear another shirt." 

"No," Tony scoffed, trying his best to not let the emotions within him dictate his face, "don't worry about it. I'll be gone and back in no time." 

"Okay," Steve drew out, turning fully to Tony just as he noticed the hickey between Steve's shoulders, "You sure you're okay?" 

Tony faked a smile, his eyes struggling to meet Steve's, "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony rants to Rhodes and Steve gets called in on a project.

Tony held the back door open to his SUV, letting the three boys climb into the backseat while Wanda threw open the passenger door. He looked back at Steve standing in the doorway, hand raised to wave at the kids, and drew his bottom lip in to bite it.  _I hate you._  Tony rounded the front of the car, then climbed in while Wanda put her earbuds in. 

He started the car, turning over his shoulder to make sure everyone had their seatbelts on before backing out of the driveway. Tony took another glance at Steve, hand still waving the car off and felt his eyes tense with anger.  _So fucking smug._ On the road, Tony geared the car into drive and sped out of the neighborhood, wanting to get as far from Steve as possible in so little time. He felt himself spacing out, starting to replay the message that was left on his machine. 

Tony slammed the heel of his palm on the edge of his wheel while he drove, which caused Wanda to pull one of her earbuds out. Peter pulled out his notebook to finish his homework and Wade sat forward in his seat to look at him. He turned to Wanda, who set her earbud in her lap and paused her music. 

"Are you alright, Tony?" She asked, tilting her head to look behind the man's dark sunglasses. Tony pursed his lips, still staring forward out of the windshield then reached for the radio dial. 

"I'm fine," he said, fumbling with the dial to turn the radio up and drown out any follow-up questions. 

Wanda looked over her shoulder and shook her head at Wade, "It's okay." 

The boy sat back and turned to Peter, then looked over to Vis, entranced in his book. 

Steve pulled the dry clothes into a basket, then moved the damp clothes from the washer into the dryer. He picked out a pair of clean sweatpants and a t-shirt then returned upstairs, but not before stopping by the kitchen to steal a bite of his toast. From the corner of his eye, he noted the message machine blinking with another message. 

He reached for it and pressed play, turning around with the toast in his mouth to find some jelly. "Hey, uh, Steve," Bucky's voice started over and Steve rushed to stop it. He dropped the jar of jelly to the floor and held back a swear, even though he wanted to scream it.  _No._

Steve dropped the toast from his mouth and folded his hands over his face. He rubbed his palms down his face then snatched the phone up. Steve held the device in his hand, then shifted it to his opposite hand before putting it back in his left.  _I can't._

Even though Steve wanted his ring back, he couldn't trust himself around Bucky again, knowing that he'd be putty in the man's hands again. It was just how it always was. Even when he was younger. Steve shook his head, gripping his hands to the edge of the counter while he shifted his weight from one leg to another. 

He thought about it, then smelled the sticky sweet scent of strawberry jelly on the floor. It felt about time for it, so many little things were just piling on top of him and Steve felt like he was going to crack. 

"F-fu..." Steve began, only for the phone to ring and cut him off. He exhaled, grabbing a dish towel from the stove and running it under hot water. Steve dropped the damp towel on the floor, then picked up the phone again. "Stark-Rogers," Steve said, only to stop himself and rub the crease in his forehead. He could only guess that Tony heard the same voicemail, and he could only guess that it was worse than what he heard. 

"Steve, hey. We've got a project. We're supposed to call everyone in," Sam said over the receiver. Steve's mouth raised in a snarl.  _This just keeps getting better and better._  

"What...what time do they need me to come in?" Steve asked, still eyeing the mess on the floor. 

"As soon as possible." 

Steve shook his head, squinting his eyes harshly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, I'll be there in a half-hour. I-I have to get dressed." 

Sam huffed over the phone, "That's the soonest you can get here?"  Steve dropped to his knees to wipe up the jelly splattered on the dark hardwood. 

"Yeah, Sam. A half-hour, I'll just see you when I get there. Bye," Steve said, pulling the phone from between his ear and shoulder, then hit the end call button. He reached across the floor to sweep together bits of glass, then wrangled it altogether before tossing the entire towel into the trash. 

Steve pulled himself to his feet, readjusting his towel on his waist and grabbing his clean clothes from the counter. He said a half-hour, and Steve wasn't about to go back on that. Not after everything else he went back on in the past twenty-four hours. 

He set the phone on the coffee table and ran upstairs. 

 

Tony dropped off the kids, still faking a smile as he waved from the car. He rolled down the window, "I love you guys." 

Wanda turned and waved, "You too, Dad." Tony felt his lips actually turn into a natural grin. Wanda never called him that. 

Peter kept his head down, sparing a wave over his shoulder as he walked up the front stairs of the school. Vis followed his brother and Wade up the stairs, only to raise his hand over his head and wave outrageously. 

"Love you, Dad." 

Tony spared a chuckle at his youngest, "Bye, Vis." He geared the car into drive as the first bell rang through the open doors of the school. Tony slowly tread through the crowd of children and teens filing towards the school. When he reached the main street, he looked both ways then took a right, away from home. He felt that he needed a minute away, just a minute to breathe. The message from the machine was still clouding his mind and it was only getting worse. 

Tony knew he wasn't there but every time he blinked, he could see Steve doubling back on his vows. He couldn't sit still, even when he parked the car in the shop lot. Tony climbed out, only to double down on his knees and grip his chest. 

"Fuck," He said at his loudest to the asphalt beneath him. Tony felt his heart pounding directly in his palm and he couldn't help but shed a few tears. It felt like a short end of the stick. He was feeling sick to his stomach.  _I let him touch me this morning. I let him kiss me._  

Tony felt his mouth go dry as his hands went clammy. He seriously felt like he was going to be sick. The front door of the shop dinged, and a pair of footsteps jogged across the lot to see Tony on the ground. 

"You okay, Tony?" Rhodes asked, his hand reaching out to grip Tony's shoulder. Tony flinched slightly, then quickly reached up to wipe his face free of tears. He straightened out his jacket, then lifted his sunglasses from his face. 

"I'm fine. Dropped my keys under the car," Tony lied, folding his hands into the pockets of his sleek black jacket. 

"You sure? Because you..." 

"I'm fine, Rhodey," Tony reached to shut his car door, then gave a quick sniffle. "Let's drop it." 

Rhodes stared at Tony's face, his bottom lip jutting out as he studied his friend. Tony's nose was nipped by the air, and his eyes were pinkish from his soft crying. 

"Bull." Rhodes threw his arm around Tony's shoulders and led him towards the shop, "Let's get inside so you can tell what the hell is going on." 

Tony shook his head, pressing his hand into his face, "God, I need a drink." 

 

Inside the shop, Rhodes searched the fridge for a beer. 

"It can't be that bad," he said over his shoulder when he found two left over from the welcoming party. He used the bottle opener screwed into the refrigerator door to pop them open. 

Tony set his feet up on his desk, arm crossed over his head, "He lied to me, Rhodey." 

"Tony," Rhodes began with an exhale, turning and shutting the fridge door with his foot. 

"And he cheated on me." 

James stopped halfway to Tony's desk to give his friend a stern look, "Steve? He'd never. That man gets upset when he swats a fly." 

Tony pulled his arm back from his face and frowned at James, "He got his whore to call the house. He left his ring under the man's bed." 

Rhodes hid a wince as he set down a bottle by Tony's shoes on the desk. "Ouch." 

Tony sat forward to grab his drink then sat back again with a long huff. He looked down at the bottle in his hand, watching the bubbles rise quickly to the surface of the alcohol before deciding that it wasn't his time to indulge. "And he came home and lied to my face about it." Tony took a couple of deep breaths, knowing that it wouldn't help himself if he started to cry about it. 

It just felt like a thing he needed to do. 

"Hey, hey." Rhodes sat down on the side of Tony's desk and reached out to brace his ankle, "What are you gonna do?" 

Tony shrugged, turning his gaze up to the high ceiling of the shop, "Go home, act passive-aggressive until he tries to go to sleep, then bug the shit out of him for hours." 

Rhodes shook his head, "Sounds like something you'd do." 

Tony tilted his bottle in his hand, towards his lips, "Yep." 

"Couldn't you, I don't know, talk to him about it?" Rhodes asked, concerned that Tony was going to let it consume him for too long. 

"Nope, already set in stone." Tony took another swig of his beer. 

"Tony," Rhodes said. 

"What?" Tony snapped up from his seat, his feet making a loud clamber to the floor. The action caused Rhodes to jump back in surprise. Tony stood up from his seat and started to pace the open floor of the shop. "Do you really think I want to be talking to him right now, Rhodes? The man sleeps with someone else and I'm just supposed to sit down and say...say what? That it hurt finding that out from a voice message rather than my husband? That he'd rather stay out all night with a stranger than come home to me? That he probably did things with that man he'd never allow from me?" 

Tony stopped halfway across the shop, tilting the bottle in his hand carelessly before hucking it across the room. It shattered against the brick wall, exploding brown glass and beer. 

"I mean, fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do? I let this man touch me this morning, and the thought along makes me sick." Tony pointed at his chest, then poked at himself until he winced. He turned away from his friend and ran his fingers through his hair. His sunglasses fell down his back and to the floor. 

Tony intertwined his fingers at the back of his head and tried to keep a level head, to fight back the few tears that hadn't expelled in his rant. "I...I don't even know what to do right now." 

Rhodes sat in silence, still watching his friend across the shop. "Tony, it was one time." 

"That I know of, James. And for all I know, he could be slinking back to that...that...ass for the umpteenth time." 

"You know that's not how Steve is," Rhodes added, trying to reason with Tony. He was spiraling. 

"No, no, no because Steve isn't always this poster boy of perfection, Rhodes." 

"Tony, stop." Rhodes stood up. Tony whipped around and narrowed his eyes at Rhodes. 

"Why'd it have to be him? And why did it have to be me?" Tony felt himself starting to get heated in the chest again, his breathing picking up unevenly. 

Rhodes made his way over to Tony, "You need to slow down. Take a breath." Tony pressed his lips together in the deepest frown he could muster before bending over to take in a deep breath. "Now, you're not gonna like me for saying this, but maybe Steve made a mistake." 

"A couple, if you ask me." 

"You're not helping, right now. So shut up and let me talk," Rhodes pat at his friend's shoulder as he knelt to get eye level with Tony. "You need to talk to him. You do. And before you wanna go off the deep end and have me coming in, fists flying. Because I will. I'll come in with like a jump down smack on Steve's perfect fucking face." 

Tony breathed out a chuckle, almost feeling a smile tinge at the corner of his mouth. 

"I won't tell you want to do, I'm just saying, maybe you should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. That's if you love him. If not," Rhodes raised his right hand, "Jump down smack." 

Tony couldn't help but shake his head. "Of course I love him." 

Rhodes gave his friend a curt bob of his head, "Then you go home, and you talk to him. I'm sure he's just as torn up." 

Tony almost wanted to throw the same word back at Rhodes from earlier.  _Bull._

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter, Wanda and Vis go about their day like normal.

Peter sat in his Physics period, across the aisle from Wade. The chemistry lab was built up with individual tables with overhanging cabinets and a small sink in the middle, which hid Peter's nodding off from the teacher. His textbook was open to a random page, sitting on the space before him as he rested his arm on the table, his chin in his hand. He could barely focus on the projector at the front of the class, flipping through slides about Newton's Laws of Physics and the equations that related to each. 

His teacher's monotonous voice was enough to cause Peter to drift away, not focusing on anything while drool started to pool behind his bottom lip. A hiss for attention caused Peter to snap to attention, only to see Wade drop his hand from his desk and hold out his hand in the middle of the aisle. Between his fingers was a folded piece of paper. Peter looked at the front of the classroom, to the teacher still rambling about the equation relating to equal yet opposite forces, then leaned across the aisle to take the piece of paper from his friend. 

From the dim light of the projector, Pete could see his friend's face. His wheat-colored hair was unbrushed and he held a perpetual scowl on his face. He retreated back into his seat and unfolded the piece of paper to read his friend's scrawl of handwriting. 

'Mr. Ludwig is putting me to sleep,' Wade's handwriting read, followed by a crude drawing of him with his head against the desk and a few 'z's flying from the top of his head. 

Pete hummed at his friend's note, then picked up his pencil to reply. 'Same here, I'm sure pulling teeth is more interesting,' he wrote before drawing his open mouth, a pair of pliers on his front tooth and him giving the thumbs up. 

He folded the paper back discreetly, then held it out for Wade to take back. Pete kept looking forward at the teacher's presentation while he heard Wade exhale in amusement. He smiled and waited as Wade scribbled something back. 

Pete liked the distraction from actual classwork. Physics was not one of his strongest subjects. At a certain point in the semester, everything just started to run together and Peter was just hoping to skirt by with a 'C'. It'd keep his dad off of him for a while, but Tony always found a way to bring his boys back into his favorite pastime. Wade had made the comment that Pete's dad was only trying to one-up his own dad, but Peter didn't care either way. It slowly came to be that Pete would only go to his father's shop and watch him work just to make Tony happy. 

He reached across the aisle again, quicker this time, and took the note from his friend's hand. Pete unfolded the paper to see a drawing of Wade, with one thumb up and a chimichanga, labeled so, hanging out of his mouth. 'Skip out at lunch, go for tacos?' 

Pete scoffed, then wrote back. 'That's not a taco in your mouth, but sure. I could go for a burrito.' He doodled back a smaller version of himself on top of a large burrito, also labeled. He refolded the paper and, instead of holding it out to Wade, hucked it onto his table. 

Wade turned to his friend with a slight look of confusion, then shook his head and opened the piece of paper. He gave Pete a real thumbs-up then slid the piece of paper in his back pocket. 

Peter looked down at his textbook on the table and tried to read a few random lines from the dense text. At the end of class, the first bell rang and Pete's classmates filed out of the room. He hung in the back, waiting for Wade, then walked with his friend towards the door. 

"Mr. Stark, can I speak with you a moment?" Mr. Ludwig asked, shutting of his projector and wiping its slate clean. Peter looked over to Wade, who shrugged and told him he'd wait in the hall. He released an exhale and turned back to Mr. Ludwig. 

"What's up?" 

Mr. Ludwig scrunched his nose at the boy's informal manner. He looked down at his desk while Peter wrung his backpack strap on his shoulder. "Mr. Stark, I believe that we might have a problem," the teacher began, straightening out a stack of papers before thumbing through them. "Your last three tests are below the class average." Mr. Ludwig set down Peter's three tests on the desk in front of him, almost urging Peter to flip through them. 

Pete shrugged, glancing at the three red grades at the top of his tests, "Okay..." 

"I think it's time to think about tutoring." 

"Really?" Peter asked, more irritated than concerned for his grade. "It can't be that bad, right? The semester's almost over." 

"While that is true, I don't think it'd be fair to yourself to just skate by with subpar grades," Mr. Ludwig said, retracting Peter's tests and returning them to the stack of papers. Peter kept his eyes low to hide a sneer at his teacher. 

"I think it'd be just fine for myself," Peter added. 

"What was that, Mr. Stark?" 

Peter lifted his head with a inquisitive hum then shook his head, "Nothing." 

"Consider my offer, Peter. Otherwise you might have to repeat this course over the summer." Mr. Ludwig said, almost warning while Peter nodded. 

"Yes, sir." Peter quickly exited the room, only to bump into Wade in the hallway. 

"The hell was that old man on about?" He asked as he and Peter started towards the stairs to their second period. 

"I'm a below-average student," Peter said, forcing a grin. 

"Join the club, but was that all?" Wade stole glances over to Peter as they ascended to the second floor of the school. 

"He says I should think about tutoring." 

Wade hid a grimace but hacked in disgust, "Like that'll make it better. All you'd be doing is listen to him go on about the same shit." 

Peter agreed with a nod, "But, I don't know. Maybe it's something to look into." 

"Well, if you do decide to go, but don't want to do it alone, I'm here." 

Peter leaned in to shove Wade in the side, "Thanks, man. Glad to know you've got my back." Wade chuckled and gave Peter's shoulder a punch in return. 

 

Vis held his textbooks in his arms while he navigated the hallway full of students. Middle and high-schoolers alike towered over the small boy and caused him to squeak out in small complaints. He had to make his way to his locker, to put away half of his books, narrowly stepping past tall juniors and seniors gathered to talk. Just as he reached his locker, Vis managed to spin the dial between his fingers and open it only for a couple passersby to shut it back. 

The youngest boy huffed after the kids that passed by him and shifted his textbooks in his arms to open his locker again, this time being held open by a sturdy hand. Vis looked up to see Wanda standing by his locker, shielding herself partway from the crowd behind the open door. 

"Are you alright?" Wanda asked, her accent thick. It made Vis smile and laugh. 

"I'm fine, thank you," he responded, stuffing all of his books into his half-locker before pulling out his math textbook. Wanda reached over and grabbed the book from him, then waved at him to continue. 

"Are you going to be sitting alone at lunch?"

Vis scoffed while he fixed his binder on the floor, trying to keep his papers from being kicked across the hall. "No, why would I be?" He said, looking up to see Wanda shift her weight from foot to foot. "Um, we can sit together. At lunch. If you don't mind helping me with History." 

"S-sure, I'll help with whatever." Wanda shrugged, shaking her head. 

"Are you alright?" Vis asked, closing his locker as he rose to his feet. 

Wanda shrugged again, then looked around the emptying hallway. "Did...Dad seem odd to you this morning?" 

"No, Dad was fine, except for when he had to yell at Steve." 

"And do you know why he yelled at Papa?" 

Vis shook his head, forcing his binder into his backpack and reaching for his math textbook. "Is it because he showed up late this morning?" 

Wanda pressed her lips together, looking down at the floor. She still felt the need to keep up her father's charade against the boys, but it didn't seem helpful to anyone. "I think so." Wanda offered to walk Vis to his next class, then went to her study period. 

At lunch, Vis carried his tray to the desolate table by the double doors, setting it down across from Wanda. They sat together in silence as they ate, only for Vis to finish his food. He pulled out his History textbook then his notes, and Wanda shifted to his side to help him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wade and Peter skip out for lunch and Tony confides in Rhodes.

Wade leaned against a locker while he watched Peter sort out his textbooks. "Where do you wanna go for lunch? Chico's Tacos or that one up the street from your dad's job?" 

Peter stopped in the middle of his task, staring at the shadowed contents of his grey locker, to turn to Wade. His lips pressed together while he tilted his head, staring at his friend like he was a moron. "Do you really have to ask?"

Wade shrugged with an outward chuckle, "Doesn't hurt to ask." 

"That's like asking whether I want to hug a dog or a snake." Peter rolled his eyes and stuffed the last of his things for his later period, Algebra, into his backpack. He slammed his locker door and reset the lock dial. 

"Well it depends. Is the snake venomous?" Wade asked, shrugging his shoulders up in query while he poked his bottom lip out just the same.

Peter couldn't help but give a half-smile to his friend. "You're asking all the wrong questions." Wade curled his arm around Peter's shoulders and walked with him down the hall. He reached and poked his friend square in the chest. 

"Or am I?" 

"You definitely are." Peter laughed, pressing a fist into Wade's side. 

 

Tony sat in his chair again, feeling his temples throb from yelling. Rhodes replaced his friend's broken beer with a water bottle, then sat before Tony in silence. The shop's 'open' sign was switched off and Rhodes put up the 'out to lunch' sign just in case. The fridge chugged to a halt after a long hum, then started back up, being the only sound to punctuate the quiet floor. 

After what seemed like an hour, Tony sighed, reaching for the water bottle and cracking it open. Rhodes raised his brows, almost hopeful for Tony to say something, but sat back when Tony took a sip and exhaled. 

"How're the kids? I haven't seen them in a while," Rhodes prompted, setting his beer bottle down and crossing his arms before his chest. Tony offered a light smile as he looked down at his lap, then thought of what to say about the kids. 

"They're alright. Vis has got to be the smartest out of all of them."

"Really? What about Peter?" 

"He's getting there, right on his brother's heels. He's more into math than sciences like Vis," Tony said, his smile growing the more he thought of his boys, "You weren't here the other day when I brought them to the shop. Peter was asking all kinds of questions and I could just tell Vis was bored to tears.

"Peter was just begging for a tour, and then Vis just said he'd call Steve from the office..." Tony's voice slowly trailed off and he scoffed. "He showed up not too long after that, then took everyone to get some ice cream." He took another sip of his water and stared over Rhode's shoulder. 

Tony remembered the flavor that Steve urged for him to try, something like old fashioned blueberry pie. "He's got the worst taste in ice cream. Like he's much older than he is." 

Rhodes nodded to everything Tony said, then furrowed his brows together. "What about Wanda? How's she doing?" 

Tony's attention snapped back to his friend, "Right, uh, she's fine. In that phase, she only likes to talk to Steve." He shrugged and Rhodes tilted his head slightly at his friend. 

"Are you sure it's that and not the fact that you haven't adopted her?" He asked. Tony kept his eyes low with another shrug then sip of his water. 

"Maybe a bit of both." 

"Tony," Rhodes said, his face contorting in judgement of his friend, "she's been in your life for almost six years. Don't you think it's something to consider?" 

"I never knew how permanent in her life I'd be. Still don't." 

"Tony," James repeated, more agitated. 

"What?" Tony raised his eyes to glare at Rhodes. He cocked his jaw askew, "You think I wanna do it now? I don't even know what's gonna happen between me and Steve yet." 

Rhodes shook his head at his friend. "She's not like your boys, Tony. She doesn't have an actual parent in this, no blood. How fair is that?" 

Tony set his water down and looked back down at the floor. "Not very," he muttered.

"Right. Now I don't know how messed up this girl is, but I'm sure some part of her considers you her family." 

Tony raised his head and scoffed, then pointed at Rhodes, "That's not funny. I'm an excellent parent." 

Rhodes raised his brows, "Sure you are." 

"Do you want me to bring up what the other guy did?" 

"No, please. I've had enough of your yelling to last a month." 

Both men shared a few laughs until it died down. Tony clicked his tongue then chewed at his inside cheek. "She called me 'Dad' when I dropped her off." 

"Really?" 

Tony nodded with a full grin on his lips. "First time she'd ever done that." 

 

Wade held the door open for Peter to Chico's Tacos. The smell of fresh, crisp tortilla chips and mild salsa wafted into the boys' nostrils and caused both of them to drool. Inside, the line to order was long, with several people leaning out of line to see what the holdup was. The small restaurant was crowded for the lunch rush and, without thinking about it, Wade grabbed hold of Peter's hand to not get separated. 

Peter's eyes widened at his friend's squeeze of his hand, then cleared his throat to let it go when they stepped far enough from the front door. Neither boy wished to acknowledge it happened, averting their focus to the menu written in chalk and hanging over the register. Peter brought his bottom lip in to chew, pondering between which kind of burrito he wanted.

Wade rested his chin on Peter's shoulder, "The 'triple chicken chipotle' chimichanga or the 'fearsome foursome fajita' chimichanga?"

Pete shook his head slightly at his friend's outward inquiry, "You always get the same one no matter what I say." 

"Talk me out of it, then. Chicken or fajita?" Wade glanced at his friend then back to the menu. 

"Fajita. I haven't seen you eat a vegetable in months," Peter said, turning to catch a glimpse of Wade's hair and blue eyes, barely noting the burnt scar along his cheek. 

Wade frowned, then made a noise of disgust as he stuck out his tongue, "You just had to bring that up, huh?" 

Peter almost shrugged, then remembered the weight of Wade's head on his right shoulder. "What, it's true." 

The boys continued to stare at the lunch menu, even as the line began to move. A couple patrons left with their food in to-go bags, and one in particular bumped into Wade's side on his way out of the door. 

"Watch it," Wade barked at the dark-haired man as he made his way out of the door. Peter turned to say his apologies for his friend, expecting the man to stop and turn around, but noticed the man push the door open with an left hand that seemed reflective. He blinked, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him, and the man disappeared. 

Pete sneered at his friend on his shoulder, "Dude, be nice." 

"Whatever. I think I'm getting the chicken."

"The hell you are," Peter said. 

 

Tony waited until he was finished with his water before standing up. He thanked Rhodes for the talk, then left the shop. Rhodes urged for his friend to take a breather before going home, but Tony climbed into his car and left without listening. He backed out of the car lot, onto the main street, then took a right after four blocks. Steve's job had always been out of his way for going home, but Tony could make an exception today. 

Part of him wanted to shudder at his own actions, nagging to himself that he was no better than Steve if he didn't trust him. But other part of him said that trust was screwed over and Tony deserved the smallest bit of relief today. With another right, Tony slowed down, passing the open construction site on a bulldozed plot of land. His eyes darted between different men of various builds before finding a place to park on the street. 

The sun beat straight down on the naked plot except for the skeleton of a new commercial building. Tony shut off his car, then grabbed his sunglasses from his pocket before getting out of the car. He shut the door firmly behind him, placing his glasses over his eyes then rounded the back of his vehicle to approach the construction site. 

From the sidewalk, Tony could almost make out faces of the workers, and the closer he got, the more he could recognize. 

"Hey guys, workin' hard?" He asked a few of the men occupying a stack of plywood for lunch. The group grunted in response and Tony hid a roll of his eyes at them. "You seen Steve around?" 

One of the men pointed up to the steel skeleton of a probable building and Tony tilted his head back to squint at the man balancing on a crossbar with a yellow helmet on his head. Tony hid a shake of his head at his husband, noting the gleam of the sun from Steve's damp shoulders. 

"Steve," One of the workers called out, as loud as possible, causing Tony to jolt in place. 

Steve looked away from bolting a steel rod and down to see Tony waving. He grinned and raised his gloved hand to wave back. Even with his sunglasses on, Tony reached up to shield his forehead from the rays of the sun. 

"You busy?" He asked loudly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Steve shook his head, holding his bolt gun in his hand, "Free as a bird, hon. What's up?" 

Tony looked over to the men watching their interaction, almost eating to the entertainment of their conversation. "Do you mind? I'm talking to my husband." The men all grumbled and returned to their lunches, trying their hardest to not be invasive. "You wanna go to lunch?" 

Steve exhaled, pulling his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Even from where Tony stood, he could see Steve's chiseled body. He tucked his lips together to keep from biting them, crossing his arms to not be distracted by the man's build.  _God, I hate that you're doing this to me._

He had to admit that Steve was naturally sexy, and even now, the man was causing a tumultuous stir within him. 

"Lunch? Sure, let me get down and we'll go," Steve said with a nod, then set down his bolt gun and reached for his tool belt. 

Tony scoffed at himself, looking down at his feet. "The fuck are you doing? You are not helping yourself right now." 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Steve go to lunch and Tony makes a quick decision.

Tony waited, in the shade, as Steve got down from the steel skeleton of the construction site. He kept his hands in his pockets, mostly staring in Steve's direction while the man decided to drop from one steel beam to another beneath. If Tony were less upset with him, he'd call out for Steve to be more careful. 

Just as Steve touched the ground, his friend Sam caught up to him. Steve gave the younger man a pat on the shoulder, then mentioned that he'd be back but he wasn't sure when. 

"It'll be today," Steve said with a playful shrug. 

Sam shook his head. "If it's anytime past two, you might as well just go home." Steve chuckled and elbowed Wilson in the shoulder, then reached for his tool belt. He unlatched the buckle, then took off his hat, setting his belt inside before handing it to Sam. 

Tony watched the two men interact, arms crossed tightly against his chest. He could analyze hearing Sam's voice, knowing that it wasn't a rasp like the voice that left the message. He couldn't be entirely sure, though, and couldn't give Steve's friend the benefit of the doubt. 

Steve approached Tony with a huff and a grin, leaning into to press his lips against Tony's. He lingered in for a moment, his arms uncrossing to grab at Steve's forearms but thought of where Steve's mouth had been and pulled away. Tony cleared his throat then gulped, staring into Steve's blue eyes and boyish smile.  _I hate you, but I can't._

Tony pressed his hand to the center of Steve's chest, then scrunched his nose up in feigned disgust. The real disgust would've been too harsh. "Are you sure you brushed your teeth? You taste like whiskey." 

Steve scoffed, looking away as the tip of his tongue prodded against the corner of his mouth. He turned back to Tony, "I'm probably just sweating it out."

"Right," Tony said, not having thought about it. He backed away from Steve's close proximity and thumbed over his shoulder to his car. "Ready to go?"

Steve nodded, "More than ready. I'm starving." Steve reached to caress Tony's face, "Hey, come here." 

Tony shook his chin slightly but allowed himself to be pulled into Steve again. Steve stared into the reflection of his eyes in Tony's sunglasses, then lifted the lenses to see dark brown eyes. 

"What?" Tony asked, not entirely comfortable with being stared at or manhandled. If it were another day, he'd let Steve all over. 

"We don't get to do this often," Steve said, "have lunch without the kids. Let's not rush." He leaned in and Tony slowly shifted his head back the more Steve moved in. 

"N-not here," Tony said, pushing at Steve's chest again. He could remember the crowd of men that were watching them talk. Tony could only think of how they were staring now. He wanted to get to his car, to put space between him and Steve so he could think clearly. 

Steve backed away slowly. "Okay, lead the way, Mr. Stark." He held his hand out in the direction of the car then followed after Tony. 

 

Tony pulled out his chair across from Steve, then sat down at the patio table. Steve rolled his t-shirt sleeves down and pushed his damp hair back to look more put together. Neither of the men said anything, only waiting for the waiter to arrive. 

"Are you alright?" Steve asked after a moment of silence. "Is this because of this morning?" 

Tony reached for one of the menus on the table.  _Yes, because you let your whore call the house. You never thought to mention it._ He shook his head, unfolding the laminated menu in his lap. "I'm fine, Steve."  _I'm not._ He was quiet while his eyes skimmed the entrees listed in the menu. Tony could only feel Steve's eyes on him, still staring. It bothered him to say the least, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. 

"Honey..." 

"Steve, stop," Tony cut off Steve by slamming his menu down on the metal table. It shook slightly and made a rattling noise, luckily there were no other patrons out on the patio. Steve sat forward in his seat, crossing his arms on the table. 

"What's wrong? You've been acting weird all morning." Steve could only guess what his question would bring out of Tony. He wasn't sure if Tony had heard the message or if he was still upset about the long night itself. Either way, Steve felt himself edge towards the end of his chair. 

Tony exhaled, remembering what Rhodes had said about talking to Steve. He just couldn't bare to say it.  _You cheated. You left your ring at a stranger's place. You didn't come home last night. What is going on with us?_

"Do you have anything you want to tell me?" Tony asked, hoping that it was enough to bring Steve to tell the truth or say something at least. If anything, it was better to talk about it now than when they got home with the kids. 

Steve raised a brow, but inside he could feel the lies pulling him apart. He couldn't manage to shake his head, and he opened his mouth then closed it again.  _I love you. I'm sorry. I'm weak, I'm not meant to love you._ _I cheated._

"No," was what Steve said instead. And he immediately wanted to take it back. 

"Nothing?" Tony asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared into Steve's eyes. 

 _Just that I slept with another man. One that I've been in trouble with before._ "No." Steve couldn't believe it coming from his mouth. The half-lies had built him up to lie straight to his husband's face and he hated it. It wasn't something he ever wanted to happen. 

Tony frowned, then tucked his lips together. His nose started to itch as he blinked excessively to keep them from watering.  _Don't._ Tony pressed his tongue against his bottom lip and he rolled his eyes. 

"Okay," he said, though nothing was so. He shook his head. "I think you should stay downstairs tonight." 

"Tony..." 

"Shut. Up." Tony urged, his hands clenching into fists on the table. "Just...for tonight."  _And tomorrow. And Wednesday. Actually, until further notice._

Steve puckered his lips then glanced down at his lap and back up. "Just for tonight?" 

 _Until I don't hate you._ "Yeah," Tony lied. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve moves to the couch, a week passes, and the kids are concerned.

Steve slowly found himself agreeing with Tony, feeling it was only a little of the punishment he truly deserved. Even after being kicked out of his own room, Steve couldn't bring himself to say he did wrong. He only knew he did. The two men shared a quiet lunch, with mostly Tony shifting his penne across his plate with his fork and Steve simply staring at his entree. 

When the waiter asked if they wanted anything else, both men erupted with a firm 'no', not wanting to spend another moment in the awkward interaction of Steve being exiled from a part of his house. Tony offered Steve a ride back to the site, if only to smooth over a little of the static transaction that happened before. But Steve shook his head, giving Tony a kiss on the cheek before turning on the sidewalk and trekking back to his job. 

Tony stood outside of the restaurant, watching Steve walk away with his hands shoved in his pockets. He couldn't help but wiggle his nose to keep from getting upset then patted his pockets for his keys. Tony looked to his watch and checked the time, realizing that the kids would be out of school in an hour. 

He climbed into his car and turned over the engine before pulling onto the street. Tony barely remembered where he was driving to until the crossing guard smacked her hand onto the grill of his car. He was suddenly distracted by the thought of Steve having to camp on the couch and what Tony would tell them it was about. 

"Kids, your dad...is going to be working early mornings so he's volunteered to sleep on the couch," Tony practiced from the rolled-up windows of his car, holding an apologetic hand up to the crossing guard. 

The woman holding a portable 'stop' sign nodded to him, then waved a line of teenagers and children across the street by her white-gloved hand. Tony pursed his lips then exhaled, he couldn't do that. Make it seem like it was all Steve's idea. If they were to split hairs, it technically was, with Steve taking the idea of sleeping with another man and that man taking the idea of calling the house. It all resulted in Tony's idea being linked to Steve's selfish decisions. 

Still, Tony wrung his hands on the wheel as he watched the line of kids lessen. Steve going to the couch definitely didn't make Tony feel better, and what he really wanted to do was go home and throw out all of Steve's things. 

But he couldn't bring himself to actually buckle down and make that his final decision. Tony didn't want Steve to leave, he just wanted to hear the truth from Steve. Then he could kick him out. 

Tony pulled into the car line for pick-up, gearing the car in park before sitting back. He held his head in his hands the more he thought about it and, if he wanted to occupy so much of his time to it, Tony felt tears brim in his eyes. He snapped his look up to see Peter, along with Wanda, Vis and Wade, standing by the passenger doors, waiting to be let in. 

"Sorry, guys," Tony said, hiding another sniffle as he looked around to the four piled into his car. He stopped to look at Wade, hugged between Peter and Vis, in the backseat. "Am I taking you home?" 

"If you don't mind," Wade shrugged, "I've got nowhere else to be." 

Tony wasn't sure how to feel, but he let it slide. Peter had a close friend to confide in, and Wade would go home before Tony had to tell them anything. 

"You can stay for dinner, Wade," Tony said, turning around in his seat to gear the car into drive. 

"Awesome, what's on the menu anyways?" 

 

Back at home, Tony pulled the dry laundry out of the machine and started to fold it while Vis sat at the kitchen table doing his homework. Tony folded a couple sheets, then set them aside before pulling out a comforter and spare pillow from the linen closet. He felt like he was hosting a guest, but it was only his husband he was making up the couch for. Tony stopped in his task and left the linens on the dryer, only to sort through the kids' clothes and put them in separate baskets. 

Peter and Wade demanded pizza and, like a young follower, Vis agreed as well. Tony picked up the phone as soon as they got home, placing a delivery of a triple-meat pizza, a veggie pizza, and cheese pizza. The boys were upstairs after that, leaving Vis to focus on his Science homework and Wanda to sit in her room listening to Hole and No Doubt. 

Tony dreaded the thought of Steve walking through the front door, knowing that it would only drive in the ache that was taking place in his heart. One night in their bed was bad enough, but with Tony unsure of how long he could keep things in, waiting for Steve to confess, Tony knew that he'd feel swallowed up. 

"Dad?" Vis called from the kitchen, "Can you help me?" 

Tony snapped out of his catatonic trance, staring at the door, and said, "Yeah, buddy, give me one minute." He reached for his cheeks, making sure that a few tears hadn't spilled. He set down Vis's basket of clothes on the washer and went to his youngest's aid. "What's up?" 

Tony pulled out the chair next to Vis, curling his arm around the back of his son's chair as he peered into the open textbook of Biology.

Vis pointed at one of the questions at the back of the chapter, "What are the characteristics of life?" 

Tony looked at the question, then his son, "Really? No Newton's Third Law of Motion?" Vis turned to look at his father and Tony furrowed his brows at his son. "Sorry, was that too harsh?" 

"Might've been," Vis said, looking back to his homework with a slight pout. 

"Okay, I'm sorry. Alright, let's go into this chapter and see. The answer's gotta be in here, right?" Tony flipped back through the pages of his son's textbook and skimmed through the half-dense paragraphs for answers. 

"Um, looks like growth, response, reproduction, and energy use." Tony said slowly, pausing the more he skimmed. 

 

Steve pulled his car into the driveway and sat for a long minute. He couldn't pry himself out of it. It just seemed like it was going to be so cold inside the house but it was the most lenient punishment and Steve had no right to complain. Shutting off his car, Steve climbed out, then trudged up to his front door. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he watched from the front window Tony sit with Vis and Wanda at the kitchen table, chuckling while eating pizza. 

Steve knew that his presence would sully the moment, that the warm smile on Tony's face would melt away as soon as he stepped inside. But he wanted to be home, he didn't care if it was with a sentence to the couch, he just wanted to be there. His bad decision continued to loom over his shoulders, and Steve wasn't sure what to do about it. He reached for the doorknob and opened the door, forcing a bright smile on his face. Steve knew that he wouldn't be welcomed by any of the kids giving him hugs, but what he was welcomed with was more bleak. 

"Hey," Tony said, between chews of his pizza. He pointed to the three cardboard boxes on the counter, "We got dinner. Pete and Wade are upstairs." 

Steve nodded to Tony's statement, then shut the door behind him before making his way to the kitchen. He rested his lips to the top of Wanda's head then reached over to ruffle at Vis's dark brown hair. 

"How was your guys' day at school?" He asked, flipping open one of the pizza boxes and pulling out a slice of veggie pizza.

Wanda covered her mouth as she spoke, "It was...fine. Another regular day." She looked over to Vis, who nodded and continued to chew the long strings erupting from his pizza slice. 

Steve looked over to Tony then away when Tony didn't return his gaze. "That's good. Anyone check on Peter lately?" 

"He was down here a few minutes ago. Wade stole the soda," Vis said after chewing his food. 

"Of course he did." 

 

Later that night, Tony held out the linens for Steve as he sat on the couch. Steve took them in silence, staring at the precise folding technique Tony put into them. It was a shame that it'd be undone. 

"I already told the kids that you'd be working an early project so that's why you're sleeping on the couch," Tony said, though it didn't seem to matter either way. The kids accepted Steve's punishment casually and went on to eat their dinner. 

Steve placed his pillow on the far end of the couch, then unfolded and draped the comforter over the back, "Alright."

Tony watched Steve settle onto the couch, kicking his feet up as he turned onto his side. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight, Tony," Steve said at his lowest tone, "I love you." 

Tony stopped at the foot of the stairs, his hand on the banister and his fingers tapping as he thought to turn around and say it back. But he couldn't. 

Steve slept soundly the first night on the couch, but he expected it to be torture.

The second night was just that, with Steve kicking the comforters on and off while he sweat due to inexplicable heat. Tony couldn't stretch out in bed, half expecting to kick Steve in the shin and cause the man to groan. He found himself tossing and turning, side to side, silently searching for the pocket of warmth that only Steve's body could supply. 

On the third night, Steve stared at the ceiling, watching the light from the outside whiz across the shadows at high velocity. He could only imagine staring at his own bedroom ceiling, being hypnotized by the fan as it whirred in endless revolutions. Tony pushed the sheets and comforter to the edge of the bed, setting the pillows around the rest in a sort of fort. He flopped from his stomach, to his side, to his back every hour hoping to find solace. 

Their days went on as normal, with Tony taking the kids to school and Steve working until dark at the construction site. Rhodes hadn't called about another project and Tony spent most of his time at home, in front of the television. 

The fifth night was the last straw. Steve snapped up from resting and stared across the darkness of the living room. He released a quick exhale before leaping over the back of the couch and tiptoeing up the stairs. Steve could hear the restlessness of Tony outside of the bedroom, but wouldn't let that be his argument. There was no space for argument for him. 

He opened the door to Tony lying on his back, hands folded across his chest, with his head at the foot of the bed. Steve scoffed lowly at the sight but stepped back as Tony scrambled to sit up. 

"W-what're you doing up here?" He asked, almost defensive, on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. 

Steve looked back into the hallway to make sure none of the kids were stirring, shut the door behind him and fell to his knees. "I miss you, I really do, Tony. I need you to let me back in," Steve crooned as he made his way across the floor on his hands and knees. He pulled himself onto the bed and flattened himself to his stomach, clawing across the mattress to rest his head in Tony's lap. "I really screwed up, I know I did. And you're smarter than me. I know this more than just coming home late that morning and I don't deserve this, I deserve worse." 

Steve paused, reveling in the warmth of Tony's thighs against his cheeks. He closed his eyes and nuzzled softly against Tony's legs. Tony held his hands away from Steve, to not give him anymore comfort than he already was given. 

"Steve..." 

"I don't deserve you, I don't deserve whatever you're giving me now. I went back on us and I can't change that," Steve's eyes heated as they started to well with tears. His arms reached up to curl around Tony's knees, "I just can't stand it, Tony. I need you in my life. I need you next to me and I need to be back here. I don't deserve it, but...I can't take it. I love you." 

Tony watched as Steve curled his body into himself, only clinging onto him for a sense of relief. He couldn't stare at his husband's efforts to come back in because it only made him want to bend. Tony's fists softened to hands as they rested on the back of Steve's head. 

Steve gasped lowly, only to exhale in relief. "I'm sorry. I am, I shouldn't even be here begging for scraps when I know..." 

Tony shushed Steve as his fingers waded through the man's short blond hair. The pair sat in silence for what seemed like hours, with Steve finding more comfort in Tony's lap and Tony petting Steve's hair. 

"I think...we should go to counseling," Tony suggested from the silence of the room, "because I can't trust you anymore. You...made very sure of that." Tony bit back the mist from his eyes and scrunched his nose, "And it's taking me a lot to not beat you down right now." 

Steve didn't respond to Tony's threat, "I will do...anything for you, Tony. Anything to make this right again." 

 _Nothing can make this right again._ Tony huffed and looked down at Steve again, "I...can't stand the sight of you right now, Steve. You're sickening me." 

Steve lifted his head to look at Tony, "I want to do better by you. I made a horrible mistake, and I just want to be back on your side." 

Tony shook his head, "It's going to take time. A lot more time than a damn week. But...if you're willing to try..." Tony could already feel regret lather up his throat by his next statement, "You can stay one night." 

Steve nodded obsessively, then started to plead for a place back in bed next to Tony, and Tony could only stare at the man as he was opening himself to be hurt again.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter woke up to Wade's arm stretching across his face. He groaned, shoving his elbow into his friend's side before sitting up. He reached to rub his eyes with the heels of his palms then shoved Wade further away from him again, this time making the boy grumble. 

"Dude, come on, move," Peter said, straightening out his t-shirt while he looked over to his alarm clock. 5:43 on a Saturday. He got lousy sleep the night before, hearing Steve beg to stay in his own bedroom.

Wade slept through the entire thing and Peter had to tiptoe across his own floor to not disturb his parents. He sat at his desk and read through his physics notes, only to give up and stare blankly at the paper before him. Peter eventually gave up and went back to bed, shoving Wade away from his side of the bed, only for his friend to curl back into him. He didn't mind, after all, having let Wade do the same thing for two years. 

Peter couldn't go back to sleep, not this time. Not as Wade stole the rest of the comforter away from Peter and grumbled again. He swung his legs around and pushed himself to his feet, shuffling out of his room and down the stairs to see Vis at the kitchen table and Wanda sat before the television. Both of them had bowls of cereal while Vis was more entertained with his novel. Peter sniffed and rubbed his eyes again, then ran his fingers through his hair as he reached the bottom step. 

"How'd you guys sleep?" He asked, walking past Wanda with a pat on her head. She sneered at him before spooning a mouthful of cereal into her mouth. Peter walked into the kitchen, then reached to ruffle Vis's hair before pulling open the refrigerator. 

"Lousy," Wanda said between chews of her breakfast. Peter looked behind the door of the fridge to see Vis nod in agreement. 

Peter nodded then returned to his search inside the fridge, finding the orange juice and putting it on the counter. "Did you hear them last night?" He shut the fridge after him, then opened a cabinet for a glass. He opened the bread box and pulled out two slices then put them in the toaster while he poured orange juice. He hadn't even thought about if Wanda and Vis even knew what was going on. 

"That...it's not new," Wanda said, still chewing at her soggy cereal. "It's been worse all week." 

"What?" Peter looked over the kitchen counter to Wanda, her eyes reflecting the bright screen of the television on silent. 

"Peter, Steve's been sleeping on the couch," Vis brought up, finishing off his cereal with a dink of his flavored milk. Peter looked over to his brother and furrowed his brows. 

"Yeah, so? Dad said he's been working an early project," Peter said as the toast popped up from the toaster. He grabbed a toasted slice and took a bite.

Wanda scoffed as she pushed herself up from the floor, taking a sip of her cereal milk while she did. "For five days? Peter, Dad's been working on one site for ten months and he only goes in when Sam calls him." She walked past Vis, picking up his bowl, then past Peter to put the dishes in the sink quietly. 

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?" Peter shrugged, watching Wanda as she washed her and Vis's bowls then dry them with a towel. 

Vis set down his book and turned to his brother, "Even I knew that." 

"Really?" Peter's head whipped around to look at Vis, "Since when am I out of the sibling loop?" 

Wanda shrugged, passing Peter again before switching off the television on her way to the stairs. "Maybe if you weren't hanging out with your boyfriend so much, you'd see it." She grabbed the railing of the staircase, only to move out of the way as Wade slowly descended the stairs, yawning and rubbing his face. "I speak of the devil and he appears." Wanda rolled her eyes and shifted past the blond boy making his way down the steps. 

"What's she talking about?" Wade asked with another yawn, both hands reaching up to smooth back his spiky hair. He reached to pull his boxers to their full length as Peter held out a piece of toast to him. 

"Nothing, she's...being angsty," Peter said quickly, holding out his glass of orange juice for Wade to take. 

"But not wrong," Vis muttered under his breath, grabbing his novel and rushing past Peter to avoid being swat at. Peter shot his brother a dagger stare, then grabbed another glass for orange juice. 

"Am I missing something?" Wade asked, taking a bite of toast and flopping it in the direction of Peter. 

Pete smiled, his hands pressed on the counter as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "No, just...eat your breakfast." 

"You call this breakfast? You are definitely not your dad." Wade sat down at the kitchen counter, scrunching his nose at the unbuttered toast in his hand. "Seriously, no syrup? Not even jelly? Do you even love me?"

"Shut up," Peter said, still smiling before tucking his lips together to stop. "How'd you sleep?" 

"Great, you are a comfortable pillow, Peter. A power bottom if I've ever seen one." Wade grinned, taking another bite of his toast while he stared at Peter, hoping to see his cheeks turn red. 

"You took up most of the damn bed," Peter said, turning away to put the orange juice away. 

"And with an ass like that, I'm surprised I did." Wade sat up in his seat to look over the counter, eyeing Peter in his pajama pants. 

"Wade," Peter said.

"What?" Wade sat back in his seat as Peter stood up and turned to him. 

"Don't make me kick you out." Peter kept his look as neutral as possible, though he was trying hard to stay that way. 

 

After a very early breakfast, Wade followed Peter back upstairs to get dressed. Pete shut the door after his friend and went to rummage through his clean laundry. 

"Am I taking you home?" Peter asked over his shoulder, peeling off his pajamas to pull on a pair of jeans. Wade sat on the bed, wrestling on his t-shirt then stopped as Peter tugged his pants up to his waist and buttoned them. 

"Have your pants always been that tight?" Wade tilted his head, looking at Peter's ass with new eyes. Peter ran his hands over his thighs, then went to bend his knees but noticed Wade staring. 

"I...I don't think so," Peter folded his hands over his butt, which caused Wade to snort. 

"Dude, I think those are Wanda's," Wade said, standing up to search the floor for his jeans and pull them on. Peter nodded, it seemed that way. He quickly unbuttoned the pants and tugged them down his thighs, only for them to stop halfway to his knee. He forced them down further, then fell on his ass to shake them off. Wade watched his friend stumble around to take the jeans off. When he fell to the floor, Wade chuckled, bringing his bottom lip in to bite it. "So graceful," Wade added, buttoning his pants and stomping his feet into his boots. 

Peter exhaled, then sat on the floor while he kept searching through his clean clothes. He found a hoodie and tossed it over to Wade, then found his own pants to put on. "So is that a yes?"

Wade furrowed his brows, tugging the hoodie over his head and to its length. "Yes to what?" 

"I'm taking you home, right?" Peter looked up to Wade as he wrestled his head out of the hood. Wade's smile flattened into a neutral line, and he grabbed his backpack to look for his toothbrush. 

"Yeah, that's fine." Wade hid a grimace, throwing open the door of Peter's room and letting it hit the dresser behind it. Peter scrambled to his feet and followed after the blond boy on his way to the bathroom. 

"Hey, what was that about?" Peter asked, looking around the hallway to make sure neither of his parents were disturbed by the noise. "Dude, what's your problem?" 

Wade stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, looking in the mirror to Peter. Vis poked his head out of his room and Wade growled at the youngest. "Beat it, pint-size."  

Vis retreated back into his room with an affirmed shut of his door and Wade tossed his toothbrush onto the bathroom counter before turning around to Peter. "It's whatever, I'll just go home." 

Peter furrowed his brows at Wade as he leaned against the doorway, "Wade, come on, what's up?" 

Wade forced a smile onto his lips, "Nothing. Don't get all mushy on me." He took a step back into the bathroom and reached to shut the door, "I'll be out in a minute." 

Pete put his foot in the way of the door then barged into the bathroom, only to shut it behind him. "No, not nothing, Wade. Talk." He barricaded the door with his body and watched at Wade laughed at him. 

"You really think you can hold me in here? I could blow you down," Wade said. Instead of living up to his threat, he turned away from Peter with a scoff, grabbed his toothbrush and paste then turned on the faucet. 

"If you want to stay, just say so," Pete slowly smiled at Wade's reflection in the mirror, "'Blow me down'? You couldn't choose a better way to say that?" 

Wade brushed his teeth, looking into the mirror at his friend behind him. His mouth foamed with green mint bubbles and he spat out, "Don't kick me out. And I meant what I said, Stark." 

Peter huffed in amusement, then opened the bathroom door, "Maybe we can go see a movie or something." 

"Sounds fine to me," Wade said, still brushing his teeth as Peter left the room. Peter made his way back to his room, rummaging through his dresser for a long-sleeve. He only asked because Wade spent, practically, every night with him and Peter barely had enough clothes for himself. 

 

Tony snored in bed, comfortably stretching his arms above his head while he slept. Steve couldn't sleep, even lying next to Tony after he begged to be let in again. He could only assume that this was his punishment now. He rested on his side, staring at Tony. Steve tucked his hands under his head and stayed that way for the hours after they talked, and after Tony went to sleep. He stayed that way until he heard the kids getting up. 

Steve didn't make any moves to get up, only hearing Wanda follow Vis downstairs to get breakfast. He could hear Peter talk to Wade, only for the Wilson boy to groan in response. Steve didn't bother to get up and see how anyone was for fear that if he got up from his spot, Tony wouldn't offer it again. He only stayed in bed, stared at Tony, and feigned sleep every time Tony moved for fear that if Tony saw him staring, he'd kick him out. 

Steve knew he deserved everything he was getting, only resting and wondering what else Tony knew. He wondered if Tony knew that he was thinking about going to get his ring today or tomorrow, or maybe even the next day. Steve wondered if Tony knew how his heart raced in betrayal when he slept with Bucky. Steve wondered if Tony knew if it was Bucky he slept with. 

His mind raced and left his body wobbly, even in bed. Steve felt like the room was spinning, tumbling in wild orbits and rotations. He stretched one foot out from the bed and tried to touch the carpet and, when he did, Steve felt even sicker. 

When Peter's door slammed open, Tony shot up from his dead sleep and looked around wildly. "What was that?" He asked, reaching to rest his palm to his forehead. Steve sat up from his spot and timidly reached to rub Tony's back. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's just the boys," Steve said softly, his hand rubbing up to Tony's shoulders and back down. "Go back to sleep, I'll check on them." 

Tony huffed, eyes squeezed close as he sat silently. He turned in the direction of his alarm clock, then back to Steve, not wanting to open his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Seven. Go on, go back to bed, Tone. I've got this." Steve leaned over to peck Tony's temple and Tony nodded sleepily. 

"You've got this." Tony rested back down and Steve climbed out of bed, slipping into his house shoes before tiptoeing out of the room. He shut the door softly behind him and looked down both ends of the hallway. 

Wanda's door was wide open and she was occupied with her music. Steve poked his head into her room and raised a hand in a wave to her. She looked up from her tape player and pulled off her headphones. 

"Good morning. What's up with those two?" Steve asked, thumbing over his shoulder to the bathroom. 

Wanda scoffed, then shook her head, "Lover's quarrel, Papa." 

Steve raised his brows in surprise, "Really?" 

Wanda hid a smile as she nodded vigorously, "Pete only asked if Wade wanted to go home and then he flew off of he rails." 

Steve looked in the direction of the bathroom, barely hearing the two boys talking over the running faucet. He heard the door opening and quickly ducked into Wanda's room, hiding behind her door. Wanda gave Steve an inquisitive look before putting her headphones back on as Peter crossed her room. Steve peeked his head out to look in the hallway to see if the coast is clear. 

"He's gone," Wanda said before resuming her loud music over her headphones. 

Steve gave his girl a thumbs-up then stepped out of her room, "Love you." 

"You too," Wanda muttered. 

Steve walked to Peter's room, knocking on the open door before poking his head into the room. "Morning, Peter." 

Peter straightened out his long-sleeve before pushing up its dark sleeves. "Morning." 

"Everything okay?" Steve asked, concern riddling his face. Peter didn't face him as he walked around his room, picking up the dirty clothes from the floor and stuffing them into the hamper. 

"Yeah," Peter said. 

Steve waited for Peter to say anything else, and when he didn't, he nodded curtly. "Alright." He turned to leave but Peter spoke up. 

"Hey, can...can I have some money for some clothes?" He asked, embarrassed by the way he said it. 

Steve stopped and stared at Peter for a long moment, "Sure. Why?" 

"I...I just need some new jeans and stuff," Peter lied, only for him to build up the courage to ask another question, "Can Wade stay a little longer?" 

Steve raised a brow in question, then crossed his arms before his chest. "Alright, kid. What's going on?" 

Peter shrugged, because he truly didn't know, "I just want him to stay a while longer." 

"Is everything okay with Wade at home?" 

Peter shook his head, not sure how to answer that question. "Steve, please. Can he stay?" 

Steve looked out of the door to his bedroom across the hall. He weighed the question in his head with a lolling of his head before agreeing, "Fine, he can stay. If you want, he can stay in the guest ro-"

"No, he can stay in here. With me. I don't mind," Peter said quickly. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and the kids go out on a weekend and Peter learns more about Wade.

Steve gave Peter a tender pat on the shoulder then left the room with a nod. He looked both ways down the hall, seeing Wade leave the bathroom, and decided to check up on Vis.

"Hey Vis, how's the reading coming along?" Steve asked as he popped his head in through the crack of the door. Vis sat on the floor, legs crossed as he flipped through the last few pages of his novel. 

"Just finished the last book," Vis said, closing the book in his hands and looking up at Steve. 

Steve smiled at the youngest, then looked around Vis's room for the rest of his books. "You wanna go to the library today? Pick up a few new ones?" Vis slowly pushed up to his feet and nodded excitedly, pulling his glasses from his face and setting them on his desk. 

"Maybe we can see if Wanda and the guys want to come with us? We could grab some ice cream afterwards." Steve reached to ruffle Vis's hair. Vis grinned and picked up his stack of literature in both arms. 

"Sounds like fun, Steve." 

Steve took the stack of books from the kid's hands and offered to set them downstairs, "You tell the others to get ready, and don't wake your dad please." Steve could only imagine what Tony would say if the kids made more noise like Wade did with the bedroom door. 

Vis bobbed his head in compliance then followed Steve out of his room. He walked up to Wanda's door and tapped his knuckles to her open door, waiting for her to take off her headphones so he could speak. Steve passed his room and Peter's, only glancing to see Peter rest a hand to Wade's chest and talk softly. 

"Boys, everything okay?" He asked, stopping just before the stairs. 

"Fucking fine, Steve," Wade said, though his tone was tense and rigid. 

Steve almost started down the steps then whipped his head back to look into the room, "Language, Wade." 

Wade pulled his gaze away from Peter long enough to exhale and shut his eyes, "Sorry. Fucking fine,  _sir._ " 

"No...forget it, we're going to the library, you guys want to go?" Steve wanted to reach up and rub his face but remembered Vis's books. 

Peter shook his head, but turned to Steve, "Could you drop us off at the mall, though?" 

Steve mulled it over, then nodded, "Fine. We're leaving in twenty. Be ready." 

 

Vis and Wanda climbed into the backseat, leaving Wade to sit in the middle. His arms were crossed before his chest as he stared forward into the rearview mirror. Steve readjusted it so he could see around Wade's head. Peter fastened his seatbelt in the front seat, only for Steve to furrow his brow at him. Peter felt the man's eyes on him and kept his head low, not ready to be met by more questions on if he and Wade were okay. 

Steve buckled his seatbelt, then looked over his shoulder to make sure everyone else had before reversing out of the driveway. He pulled onto the main road and drove off, with all of the kids sitting in complete silence. The radio had been turned off from nights before, and Steve never got around to turning it back on. 

Peter reached for the dial and pushed it, only for the station to come out as a whisper. He fumbled with the volume, then switched it to a different station and sat back to stare out of the window. Wade relaxed his arms and draped them behind Vis and Wanda's headrests, slouching in his seat. 

Steve kept his eyes on the kids in the backseat every time he glanced in his rearview, almost expecting Wanda to push Wade away from her and Vis to follow suit. That wasn't the case. Steve kept driving, then took a left at a light before reaching the mall on the right. He pulled into the parking lot and parked, allowing Peter and Wade to climb out of his car. 

"Hey, I'm giving you guys two hours. You better be back out here by ten-thirty," Steve said sternly to Peter from the open passenger door. He leaned over the center console to be heard. 

"We got it, Pops. Don't get your panties in a bind," Wade said, resting his arm over Peter's shoulders. "I've got my eye on the kid. Go, be nerds." 

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but narrowed his eyes at Wade. He pointed at Peter to say something but Peter only nodded. 

"We got it, Dad. We'll be back here by ten-thirty." 

Steve's mouth turned into a soft grin and he sat up in his driver's seat, "Okay. Here," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. "This is between us, okay?" 

Peter nodded and Steve reached to hand the oldest the money.

Steve looked over his shoulder to Wanda and Vis in the backseat, "Either one of you want to come up here with me?" 

Both kids shook their heads and Steve geared the car into drive as Peter shut his door.

Wade turned around to the mall with Peter in tow, "Alright, where to first? Music store? Video store? Want to sneak into that backroom again?" He looked down at the top of Pete's head in a lock.

Peter shook his head slightly, "Not really. You still have that video you stole?" 

"'Interracial Train Bang IV'? Hell yeah, I do. Should've brought it." Wade smirked and looked off into the distance as if he were reminiscing. 

Peter grimaced, "Please don't ever bring that video. The cover was enough to scar me for life." Wade chuckled loudly, then reached to rub his knuckles into Peter's hair. 

"You love it, don't lie," Wade said. 

Peter's mouth turned down in an overly disgusted frown, only wondering how the women in the video didn't have back problems from their overly large chests. 

"So where are we going, Stark?" Wade asked, leading the pair towards the center of the mall, to the directory. 

Peter lifted his head up from Wade's lock and pointed to the department store. Wade groaned, almost deflating next to Peter. 

"Clothes shopping?" 

Peter nodded, "Shut up. Let's go." 

 

Wade dragged his feet as he followed Peter through the department store, holding hangers on his wrists like an animated coat rack. He felt himself about to fall back asleep the more Peter stopped to slide through metal racks for a shirt in his size. 

"You're killing me here, Pete," Wade said, leaning against a pillar in the middle of the aisle. "If this is your idea of fun, we need to have a talk." 

Peter shook his head at his friend's whining, continuing to search through clothes that he knew that Wade would specifically like. He was only doing this for Wade, it was killing him going through racks of clothes himself. When Wade's forearms were filled with hangers of clothes and three pairs of jeans were draped over one shoulder, Peter pointed to the dressing rooms. 

"Let's go try them on." 

"Together?" Wade asked as Peter grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the hallway labeled 'Dressing Rooms'. 

"Unless you don't want to?" Peter raised a brow, "What, you scared?" 

"Shut up, I'm not scared. Just don't want you falling in love with this body," Wade said quickly. 

Peter scoffed and shook his head, "I promise that won't happen." He led Wade into the dressing room hallway then to the largest dressing room at the end. 

As soon as Peter opened the door to the large dressing room, Wade shrugged all of the clothes from his body and watched them fall to the linoleum. 

"Damn it, Pete," Wade said, reaching for his shoulder as he rolled his arm in a circle, "Could've dislocated my shoulder." 

Peter refrained from rolling his eyes at his friend and tossed him a pair of jeans, "Try these on." 

Wade caught the pair of pants, looked down at them and back at Peter, "You want me to strip?" 

"I'm not gonna look." 

"Bullshit, you're not gonna look," Wade said, turning around to rub his back pockets, "Have you seen my ass?" 

Peter hid his face in his hands to hide the blush on his cheeks and chuckle at Wade, "Just take your pants off and try those on. I'm not looking."

Wade reached to unbutton his pants, then looked over his shoulder to Peter. "Try on a shirt, occupy yourself. Just fucking turn around." Wade reached down and threw a shirt at Peter, "And don't jerk off." 

 

Steve followed Vis and Wanda into the library, holding the stack of books for the youngest. Vis held the door open while Wanda scurried away to the music section of the library. Steve smiled at Vis, then bent down to hoist the kid over his waist. Vis giggled childishly then covered his mouth with his hand when Steve shushed him. 

"Hi, I'm here to return these books," Steve said quietly as he approached the library counter. "Oh, and this kid too. I've had him for three years, I hope there's not an overdue fee." 

Vis continued stifling his laughs while wiggling on Steve's shoulder and the librarian grinned. "I'm sure it won't be that much. Was he a good kid?"

"Yeah, I wish I could keep him," Steve said, barely able to keep in his own laughter. "His dad will probably miss him, but we've got two other ones." 

"Steve!" Vis said out of his snorting laughter. He started to kick but Steve shifted his kid on his shoulder. 

"And he's so talkative," Steve continued as the librarian scanned in all of Vis's books. 

"Is that so?" The librarian raised a brow at the man. Steve turned to face Vis to the librarian. "Hello, Vis. Do you think you're talkative?"

Vis shook his head as he waved at the librarian, "Hi Sharon." 

The blonde woman behind the counter smiled and waved back, "So you read all of these in the span of two weeks?" 

"Our boy's a little Einstein," Steve said, bending down to put Vis on his feet. "We're here to get some more." 

Vis nodded eagerly, taking Steve's hand and smiling up at him. Sharon looked down at Vis, "We've got new books..."

"On the shelf by the staircase," Vis finished Sharon's sentence with a nod. 

"Atta boy." Sharon gave the boy a thumbs up then finished checking in the rest of the books. "You've got ten that you can check out." 

"Yes ma'am." Vis ran off and dragged Steve to the newer books. "There's a book that I've been wanting to read for a while. I hope they have it today." 

Steve chuckled and nodded, "Alright, lead the way." He followed Vis to the bookshelves, "What's so good about this book?" 

"Thor loves this book," Vis said over his shoulder to Steve. 

"Thor?" Steve asked, raising his brows. 

"The ice cream man," Vis said, stopping before the bookshelf to run his finger over the spines of novels. 

Steve smiled, "Right, Thor. Well, what about Loki?" 

Vis scrunched his nose, "He doesn't care. Thor's really nice though." 

 

Wade tried on more clothes than Peter, with Wade tossing jeans at Peter to try on afterward. Peter peeled off a flannel he tried on, then handed it out to Wade to try on. 

"Try this one on," He said, shaking the top before Wade. Peter raised his brows, waiting for Wade to pull on the last pair of jeans and take it. 

Wade narrowed his eyes at Peter, then the shirt and back, "Really?"

"Come on, it'll make your eyes pop," Peter joked, tossing the shirt to Wade. 

"Alright, but don't try checking me out. I mean it, turn around," Wade said, twirling his finger before him to motion for Peter. 

Peter raised his hands up and turned to the far end of the dressing room, "I told you, I'm not looking, Wade. You're probably not that cut anyways." He teased, reaching to unbutton his jeans and shifting them to the floor. 

"You're just jealous, Stark. I'm lean and toned, my man," Wade said, shrugging off his own shirt while Peter tugged his pants off of his ankles. 

"Yeah, yeah." Peter rolled his eyes as he tugged on another pair of pants. He straightened up and pulled them to his waist, buttoning them as he caught a glimpse of Wade in the mirror. 

Peter froze, his mouth going dry as he saw Wade's stomach blotched with purple-yellowish bruises. His eyes scanned slowly up Wade's sides, then to his chest and shoulders, seeing pale outlines of linear and circular scars patterned along his tanned skin. He could only take in so much while Wade was focused on buttoning up the shirt. 

When Wade buttoned up the last notch on the red flannel, he looked up to see Peter staring in the mirror. Peter quickly averted his eyes but Wade narrowed his eyes. 

"I told you not to fucking look," Wade growled. 

Peter glanced up at Wade only for the blond boy to push him against the wall.

"You don't say a fucking word to anyone about this, got it?" Wade pointed his finger in Peter's face. He could barely force out a breath, his chest pressed against Wade's. His anger let warmth emanate out but Peter couldn't revel in it. 

Wade's face was contorted in anger, his eyes narrowed as his blond hair fell in his face. "W-where'd you get those from?" 

Wade shoved Peter in the chest again, "Wrong fucking thing to ask, Stark. You don't tell anyone." 

"I-is it your dad?" Peter asked, reaching to pull back the part in his flannel. He saw more of the bruises and a reddish splotch along Wade's collarbone. Peter reached to touch lightly at the wound, only for Wade to wince. 

"Fuck off, Peter. Stop touching me." Wade frowned, pulling back from Peter slightly. 

"No, Wade." Peter reached for Wade's shoulders and held onto him carefully. 

"Peter, let me go." Wade tried to shrug Peter's hold off of him. 

"Wade..." Peter began but was stopped when Wade's fist connected in his face. 

"Goddamn it, Peter! I told you to let me go," Wade said, immediately regretting his action as he cradled his hand. Peter backed away from Wade, holding his hand over his eye. 

Wade shook his hand out then walked over to Peter, holding his hands out to cradle his friend's head, "Damn it, goddamn it, Pete. I'm sorry. I told you." 

He tried to ease Peter's hand from his face and stared at into his friend's face. Peter stared at Wade, then up at the lights in the dressing room. "I deserved that, really." 

"Bullshit," Wade said, reaching to touch lightly at the edges of Pete's eye. It was already starting to darken. "I'm sorry." 

Peter shook his head, not even feeling Wade touching his face, "I-I won't tell anyone."

"No, no, that's not what I fucking wanted from this." 

"But I got it, Wade. I won't say anything," Peter whispered. 

"Stop doing that, I don't fucking care right now. I didn't mean to hit you, Peter." Wade's eyes watered as he stared into his friend's face.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat then pulled his face from Wade's hands, "Dude, stop. I'm not dying, it was barely even a tap." 

"You're gonna get a black eye," Wade said. 

"I don't fucking care right now," Peter said. "Wade, you've got to stay. I mean it. If it makes you feel better, do it for me." 

Wade's hands stayed in the air and stared at Peter. "For you?"

"Just...a couple of nights. I can't let you go back home," Peter said. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve sees a familiar face and the kids get ice cream.

Steve kept his distance from Vis while the boy searched the shelves for a particular book. He watched proudly as Vis ran his finger over the spines of books, mouthing the titles while shaking his head. Steve barely pulled his gaze away from his kid until he saw a wisp of dark hair from the corner of an aisle. He leaned to glance in the direction, almost expecting to find someone he knew, but no one was there. 

"You stay here, Vis, I'll be right back," Steve said, approaching Vis and planting his lips on the top of the kid's head. "You come find me when you're ready to go." 

He patted the boy's shoulder then tiptoed around the bookshelf, then another while glancing down the aisles. Steve could swear he saw someone, or maybe it was a part of him that yearned for someone to be there. Someone in particular. He could almost feel Bucky's breath down his neck, and it was haunting him. 

Vis took a seat before his bookshelf, pulling a novel from it and skimming through it. He had found the book for Thor but wanted a few more to take home. Steve kept his footsteps light as he paced down the length of the library, peeking down every aisle now to make sure he was only seeing things, that he was only paranoid. 

When he reached the end of the bookshelves, Steve reached out to brace the wall with a relieved exhale. He bowed his head down, his other hand folded against his hip. It was in his head and he was just feeling guilty. 

"Hey, kid," a voice spoke up from behind Steve. A hand reached up to comb against Steve's neck, and Steve quivered at the touch. 

"B-Buck..." Steve began, turning over his shoulder to look at the man he was defenseless against. 

His hair was pulled away from his face, into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, and his stubble seemed thicker than the last time. Bucky raised a finger up to his lips with a hushing noise, then looked down the aisleway back to the front of the library. 

Steve could only watch the man before him frozen in wait, feeling himself physically fight off the immediate attraction to him. "What're you doing here?" 

Bucky looked back at Steve with a tender grin, his hand reaching up to trace Steve's jaw. "I could ask you the same thing. I like myself a good book."

"I'm here with my son," Steve said immediately, not even thinking to filter himself. He stared blankly as Bucky's eyes narrowed, but his smile never faltered. 

"So you got kids?" 

Steve nodded, almost leaning into Bucky's touch. Instead, his lips followed Bucky's knuckle as it stroked his jaw softly. His knees almost buckled at the touch.  _Damn it._

Bucky watched as Steve tried to straighten himself up, then leaned into Steve's face only for him to not retreat. Steve's breath caught as Bucky's lips hovered before his. His lips quivered to say something but Bucky spoke up first. 

"I'd like to meet them."

Steve nodded again and, in the presence of Bucky, he forgot he was upset with him. He forced himself away from Bucky, then turned down the aisle and led the man back to his youngest. Vis was still sat on the floor, a stack of books forming next to him. 

"Hey, Vis." Steve poked his head out from behind a bookshelf and smiled at the boy with another book in his hands. "I'd like you to meet one of my good friends, Bucky." 

Vis looked up from the book in his hands to see Steve approach with a rugged-looking man. As Bucky bent down and held his hand out for Vis to shake, Steve blinked and realized how awry the situation was.  _Wait..._

"Hi Vis," Bucky said with a soft voice, "You love books, huh?" Vis nodded and Steve reached to grab Bucky's shoulder. 

"We're...we're gonna go talk outside, okay? Why don't you go check out your books?" Steve pointed to the library counter with Sharon sorting novels onto a cart. 

Bucky waved at Vis, "It was nice to meet you, Vis." 

"You too, Bucky." Vis raised a hand to wave after the two men as they left the library. He looked around the first floor and saw Wanda approach him with three cassette tapes in hand. 

"What was that about?" Wanda asked, holding her free hand out to help Vis up. 

"That's one of Steve's friends." 

"Which one?" Wanda turned to gatch a glimpse of the back of the man's head and a glint from his hand.

"Bucky. Does he work with Dad?"

Wanda agreed mindlessly as she thought of where else she heard the name. 

 

Outside, Steve led Bucky into an alley. 

"What did I tell you to do when you found my ring, Buck?" Steve asked, though he already had his answer inside. He started to pace before Bucky and the man crossed his arms to watch him. 

"What'd I do wrong, Steve?" 

Steve stopped in his pace and snapped his look up at Bucky. "You left a damn message on my machine." He had to slowly lower his voice because the pent-up anger from the week was now getting to him. 

"Steve..."

"I asked you for one thing, Buck! And you left that message and Tony heard it." Steve reached up to run his fingers through his short hair.

"Wait." Bucky raised a hand to stop Steve from rambling then pushed off the wall, "Tony?" 

"Yes, Tony. He heard it and he iced me out, now he's saying we should go to marriage counseling." 

Bucky's bottom lip jutted out as he nodded, "Right, okay. And you're going."

"You know I am." 

Bucky exhaled deeply and looked away, "Alright."

Steve dropped his hands to his sides and narrowed his eyes at the man before him, "Buck."

"Shut up." Bucky waved his hand before him and shrugged his shoulders. 

Steve raised a brow at the man, then reached to grab Bucky's hand. "Hey, Buck. I still want you in my life." 

"Bullshit," Bucky spat, which caused Steve to flinch. "I just get you back into my life after two years and you're fucking married." 

"Watch your language," Steve whispered over his language before taking a step towards Bucky. He reached to grip Bucky's chin, then turned him to look at him. "I've missed you, Buck. I don't want to lose you again." 

Bucky scoffed, looking over Steve's shoulder then away, "I...I can't go back to how we used to be, Steve. Before we were together." Bucky pulled his hand out of Steve's hold and shut his eyes. "I love you, I can't go back." 

Steve stopped, feeling his heart double over in pain while he stood perfectly still. He'd waited too long for Bucky to say those words and saying them so late almost wanted Steve to ram his head into a wall. It hurt him to admit that he wanted to hear it so badly for so long, and it diseased him inside for him to want to admit that he still felt the same way. 

"You're such a dick," Steve muttered instead, pushing away from Bucky. 

Bucky rushed after Steve, grasping the man's elbows in his hands, "I know, and you can beat me up if you want, but Steve...the other night meant something to me. We can't act like it was a mistake."

"But it was," Steve urged, pulling himself from Bucky's grasp another time. 

"No, it wasn't. It was a choice, Steve. And you chose it. You could've gone home, back to Tony, but instead you just crawled into my bed and had sex with me," Bucky said, his voice hushed to prevent echoes down the alley. 

Steve exhaled, looking up at the sky before shutting his eyes, "I should've gone home, Buck."

"But you didn't." Bucky stepped towards Steve, backing him up to one of the brick walls. He ran his lips over Steve's cheek then down his neck, "You can keep saying you don't want me, Steve, but we both know the truth. You're just too chickenshit to say it out loud."

Steve's hands braced Bucky's broad chest, only for his fingers to grasp at his shirt. "I..."

Bucky teased his tongue along the length of Steve's neck, feeling him shiver underneath him. 

"I wanna...," Steve chocked out, trying his best to not get caught up in the warmth that Bucky let off, or the feeling of his lips against his skin, "try and save my marriage."

Bucky stopped, his lips curled around Steve's neck in the process of making a hickey. "Fine, kid." He backed away from Steve, only to peck his lips. "But you call me when that goes bottom's up." 

Steve leaned after Bucky's light kiss, only to groan to himself. Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold band. 

"Until then," he said, taking Steve's hand and slipping the wedding band back onto his ring finger, "Just to keep up appearances." 

 

Steve stood before his car, circling the gold band on his finger while he waited for the kids to cross the street. His thumbnail was between his teeth, being cut and re-cut by his chewing. He still couldn't shake the ghost of Bucky's lips against his neck. 

Wanda helped Vis carry a few books out to the car, with her cassette tapes in her jacket pocket.

"Where did Bucky go?" Vis asked as he approached the car, with Steve holding open the back door for the youngest to climb in. 

Steve shook his head, "He...had to go to work." He looked to Wanda as she waited to slide the books into the backseat. "And what'd you find at the library?"

Wanda smiled and shook her jacket pocket, "Found some Stevie Nicks."

"On cassette? That's a find," Steve said, pulling his thumbail from his mouth and stuffing his hand in his pocket. He looked around the car, maybe hoping to see Bucky walking away or stopping to look at him. 

Wanda looked from Steve to his anxious hand and narrowed her eyes, "Where'd you find your ring?" 

Steve quickly looked down at his daughter then to his hand, "It was u-under my seat. I guess I didn't look hard enough." He forced out a chuckle before nodding for Wanda to get into the car. "Let's go see what the boys are up to." 

Wade held a paper towel filled with ice to Peter's eye as the boy rested his head in his lap. 

"You're an idiot," Wade said, easing the makeshift ice pack from his friend's face. 

"Says the guy who punched me in the face," Peter winced, reaching to poke at the edges of his eye. 

Wade swatted his hand away then bit his lip before putting the ice pack back on. "I told you to let me go." 

"I got that, but Wade..."

"Shut up," Wade said, resting his arm on Peter's chest, "I said I'd stay with you. Didn't say I wanted to talk about it." 

Peter stared up at his friend as he looked around the food court. They were sitting in a booth along the back wall and Peter was tucked under the table though his legs were draped across the seat. He couldn't help but stare at the wisps of Wade's blond hair lit up by the overhead lights. Peter crossed his arm over Wade's, spreading out his fingers to intertwine with his. 

"Don't get mushy, Stark. I just clocked you," Wade added, looking down to lift the ice pack from his friend's face again. 

"I don't think it's going to be erased, Wade. Stop lifting it." 

"Shut up, you might be delusional." Wade smiled softly, replacing the pack to Peter's eye. He pulled his hand away from the ice pack and almost pushed back Peter's dark hair but cracked his knuckles and took hold of the ice pack again. 

"What time is it?" Peter asked, lifting his free arm from this stomach to look at his watch. 

Wade shifted his friend's wrist towards him and looked at the time, "We should get going. Your dad will be here soon." 

Peter nodded as he took the ice pack from Wade's hand then sat up, his lips pressing into Wade's cheek. "Let's go." 

He froze as he sat forward, letting Wade slide out of his seat. Wade reached up to touch his cheek and grinned softly. 

"Come on, Stark." Wade pushed onto his feet then held his hand out to pull Peter up. 

 

Steve held the door open to Ragna-Rocky Road, the ice cream shop. The four kids filed into the store at the bell ring and made their way up to the glass display case of ice cream. Steve followed in after them, still concerned with Peter's busted eye and Wade not letting go of Peter's hand. 

"Good day, Thor," Vis called out from in front of the display case. He tried to peer over the glass, but could only look through it. Thor approached the display case, his paper boat hat placed delicately on top of his long blond hair pulled back into a bun. He folded his thick arms on the top of the case, his biceps almost tearing through his white work shirt. 

"Vis, my good man. How's life so far?" He asked with a large smile. 

Wanda averted her eyes from staring at the largely-built man behind the counter, more concerned in find an ice cream flavor she hadn't tried. Peter, with his one good eye, couldn't really turn away from Thor's thick arms and Wade obliged by folding his free hand over Peter's face. 

"So far, so well," Vis said, smiling back at the man, oblivious by his stature. He pointed out the ice cream flavor he wanted and Thor opened the case. 

"What have you been reading lately?" 

Vis's smile grew and he pulled out one of the books he got from the library, "I got your favorite. I finished the  _Space Odyssey_ but I know that you like Norse Myths." 

"That I do, youngling." Thor looked through the glass to see Vis holding up the Norse book of Mythology. "Tell me about the  _Space Odyssey_." 

Vis reached up on his tiptoes in excitement then started to ramble about the book he'd just turned in to the library. While he talked, Thor nodded and listened, helping the rest of the gang to their ice cream. 

"Hello Steve," Thor said while Vis stopped to lick his dripping ice cream. 

"Hi Thor." 

"And where is Tony today?" 

"At home, sleeping." 

Thor chuckled, "That man sure does enjoy his beauty rest."

Steve smiled politely, "That he does, Thor." 

Vis cleared his throat then continued talking about the synopsis of  _Space Odyssey_ while Wade tilted his ice cream to mark the end of Peter's nose. Steve got two scoops in a bowl for Tony then went to pay for the ice cream. 

"And that's just the first book," Vis said finally, which prompted Thor to chuckle outrageously. 

"You better come back and tell me how the others go, Vis. Don't leave me in suspense." 

Steve handed over the cash to a quiet, dark-haired boy behind the counter, his head in his hand while he stared listlessly across the usually-empty ice cream shop. Wanda passed by the boy on their way out of the store, and smiled at him. The boy raised his fingers in a meek wave, then returned his stare across the shop.

Vis shook his head, "I won't." 

"And you tell me how you like that Mythology book, it was always my favorite." 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and the kids get ice cream, Tony learns more about Bucky and Steve and Tony start therapy.

Steve wrestled to open the front door with Vis's books in one hand and Tony's ice cream balanced on top. Wanda tried to help but her hands were also full with a few of the youngest's books while Wade was hovering over Peter about his darkened eye. 

When he got the door open, the kids rushed past him with Vis going to the kitchen table to eat his ice cream while Wanda flopped onto the floor before the television. Wade followed Peter and sat next to him on the couch. 

"No, don't worry guys, I've got it," Steve said, kicking the front door closed with his ankle before setting Vis's books on the kitchen counter. "After you guys are done, Wade, you go get the first aid kit from upstairs and Wanda, you gotta clean your room." 

The kids groaned to themselves and Tony made his way down the stairs in his bedroom slippers. The heels of his palms were pressed into his eyes as he fought back a yawn, taking each step one at a time before getting to the floor. 

"Hey, honey," Steve smiled, opening the freezer to place Tony's ice cream. 

"You guys have fun without me?" Tony asked, shuffling across the floor. He rested his hand to Peter's head on the way to the kitchen, then Wanda's and finally Vis's before curling an arm around Steve's waist. 

"We could never," Steve said in return, turning his head to peck Tony's temple on his way to the coffee maker. The rest of the kids chimed in with the same response, but Wade shrugged. 

"We met one of Steve's friends," Vis said, taking his ice cream and holding it before his mouth. Steve shuffled through the mail on the counter while Vis talked, slowing down in his actions as he thought of what his kid said.

"Oh? Which one?" Tony glanced over to his youngest then Steve as he grabbed his mug from the dish rag and poured himself some coffee. 

"Bucky. Right, Steve?" Vis took a long drag of his ice cream and hummed casually. 

Tony turned towards his son with his eyes narrowed, "Did you say Bucky?" He continued to pour coffee onto the floor and his slippers while he was more concerned with the name. Tony stared at the back of Steve's head as Steve glanced down to Tony's mess on the floor. "You saw Bucky?"

Steve nodded slightly while Tony snapped his hand up, jerking the coffee pot upright in his grip. He looked to the floor and his eyes darted at his slippers before looking back at Vis. "Was he nice?" 

"Yes, and he was reading  _Animal Farm_. I should have asked him which one he liked better." 

Tony forced a polite grin onto his lips, "Between that and  _Nineteen Eighty-Four_?" He reached for the dish rag and bent down to the floor to wipe up the coffee. Steve grabbed the other dish rag from the sink and followed suit. 

"I personally like both of them, but I wanted to know what he thought of Big Brother." Vis said, watching both of the men on the floor wipe up cold caffeine. 

Tony looked up at Steve as he swiped his hand out to catch as much liquid as possible. "The fuck were you doing around Bucky?"

Steve looked up from the linoleum and responded in the same hushed voice. "We bumped into him at the library, Tone."

Tony exhaled harshly, looking down to the floor and up again, "And is that all?" 

Steve opened his mouth, glancing back down at the floor and back at his husband, "N-no. He said he missed me." 

Tony furrowed his brows at Steve, sitting back on his shins while he thought more about the last time he saw Bucky. He looked up to the answering machine right after, then back at Steve. "Was it him? Was it Bucky on the phone?" Tony tried to remember what Bucky's voice sounded like. He reached out to grab Steve's shirt and pull him close. "Was it Bucky that you fucked?" 

Steve's mouth quivered, struggling to answer Tony's questions. He could only feel sweat bead on the back of his neck and, with Vis sitting near by, more eyes on him than he intended. "Y-yes." 

"Are you guys okay?" Vis asked, dragging his tongue around his sticky knuckles while he watched his dads on the floor. 

"We're fine, sweetheart," Steve said though Tony's face didn't let that off. His nostrils were flared in anger while his eyes were narrowed to slits. "Honey, tell Vis everything's okay."

Tony scoffed, tearing his gaze away from Steve, his fist balling up his shirt tighter until he felt his own fingernails. "We're fine. Just peachy." He forcefully let go of Steve's shirt and shoved him away before getting to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower." 

Steve sat back as he watched Tony leave the kitchen, then listened for him to go back upstairs before slumping his shoulders.  _Damn it._

 

A month later, and sleeping in the guest bedroom on the first floor, Steve sat on a new couch next to Tony. Tony kept his distance from Steve, leaving three decorative pillows between them while Tony crossed his arms and stared at the decorations in the room.

Steve raised a brow at the dark oak shelves reaching up to the white ceiling against the pale gray walls. He noted every tchotchke lining the shelves, each one having a stamp, painting, picture or stature of a feline. Steve glanced over to Tony, seeing the black cat throw draped over the back of the dark gray couch and the separate sized cat stuffed animals. 

Tony tapped a foot against the tiger-striped rug, staring at the clock in the shape of a stretching cat on a dark desk to his left. Steve started counting the number of cats in the room, but remembered the large ink painting of a snow cat in the waiting room behind the receptionist. The tables in the waiting room also had cat statues while the carpet was a classy leopard spots. 

Silence rang through the room, with only the cat clock adding noise. Steve exhaled, folding his hands between his legs while Tony continued tapping his foot on the floor. He kept his sunglasses on for the longest time before lifting them to the top of his head. 

Steve turned to Tony, "If he can't keep up with appointments..." He began, only for their therapist to walk in from the waiting room. 

"I apologize for the delay. I hope we are not in any rush today," the man said, fastening his glasses on the bridge of his nose before looking to his day planner in the crook of his elbow. "Stark-Rogers', yes? I am T'Challa." He made his way into the room, standing on the opposite side of the coffee table as both men rose from the couch. 

"Steve," he said, holding his hand out to shake T'Challa's hand. Tony waited, slowly unfolding his arms before taking T'Challa's hand next. 

"Tony." 

"Nice to meet you both. Now today will be more of an assessment, what we would like to improve and what we think is strong in your relationship. From there, we could relay the foundation to get you back to a sturdy benefit." T'Challa nodded to both men, sinking into the armchair across from the couch. 

Steve and Tony returned to their seats. T'Challa looked between the two of them and cleared his throat at Steve. "Steve, what do you find strong in your relationship with Tony?"

Steve glanced over to Tony and reached to scratch behind his ear, "Other than this past month, our communication is great." 

Tony hummed at Steve's answer, still looking away. T'Challa took notice, pulling a pen from his suit jacket pocket and scribbling down a note in his planner. "Would you like to continue?"

"We both put the kids first. Our parenting is strong."

T'Challa wrote down another note before looking at Steve again. "And what about weaknesses?"

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Tony try therapy and Wade gets closer to Peter.

"Weaknesses?" Steve repeated, looking over to Tony to see what he thought of the question. He was still sturdy in his place on the couch, glancing over to Steve before rolling his eyes. Tony was anticipating Steve's answer, to see if it even came close to what he was thinking. 

"We...don't really have a lot of time for each other," Steve began, causing Tony to huff in disbelief. T'Challa shot Tony a glare then returned to Steve, urging for him to continue. "I work odd hours, I get that, and Tony runs the shop. When we see each other, we talk about the kids', dinner, our day, and then we go to bed." 

T'Challa nodded, his pen resting to paper before scribbling out another note. "Is that all?"

"How about the lack of sex while we're at it, huh, Steve?" Tony scoffed, his arms returning to his chest tightly in a fold. T'Challa looked to Tony again and shook his head. 

"Please, Steve. We are here to work on your relationship with Tony. If you see a point in your relationship that could use work, let it be said." 

Steve looked over to Tony before folding his lip between his teeth, looking down at the wringing of his hands. "You could say...that we have intimacy problems." 

"Intimacy problems? It's not like the big man can't get it up," Tony added, his eyes cutting to the sky. 

T'Challa sat back in his seat with a deep exhale, pulling his glasses from his head. "Tony, this is our first session. I will allow you to have the floor, but this is not how every time will go. It's still Steve's turn to speak." 

"Are you fucking with me right now? I scheduled the damn session. Don't I get to speak?"

"Depends," T'Challa said, looking to Steve and leaning forward to get the man's attention, "Are you finished, Steve? Would you allow Tony to speak?"

Steve shrugged, "Not like he'd stop talking anyways."

"The hell does that mean?" Tony asked, snapping his look to Steve as he sat back on the couch. 

"Nothing, honey," Steve said, folding his palm on his forehead, "I meant nothing of it." 

"Bullshit," Tony bit, narrowing his eyes and shifting his body to face Steve. 

T'Challa unclicked his pen and raised a hand to speak, but Tony leaned towards Steve. 

"The hell did you mean by that?"

Steve looked at Tony and cracked a slight smile, "Honey, Tone, I meant nothing of it. Please. Just talk to the therapist." 

"Yes, that is why I'm here, Tony. That is why you interjected on Steve so many times," T'Challa said, folding his day planner closed in his lap, "Please, let's resume our session with time to spare. Tell me about the strengths in your relationship with Steve?" 

Tony huffed, pulling away from Steve and shifting in his seat. "I guess we do take care of the kids well, Steve's been nice to my boys." 

"Good, continue," T'Challa urged. 

 

Wade sat across from Peter on his bed, staring at his friend with narrowed eyes. 

"You're kidding, right? That's not how you do it," he said, shaking his head at Peter, his wide eyes full of confusion. 

"Bull, that's not how you do it. I copied right after you," Peter replied, his voice barely above a whisper as Wade's hand rested on his knee. 

"No, stupid, it's more of," Wade leaned in, connecting his lips to Peter's before slipping his tongue between his friend's lips and wrestling against his tongue. His hand reached to cradle Peter's neck as his tongue circled Peter's, then pulled away with hum. He hid a light slurp of his mouth and stared at Peter, how his eyes almost fluttered at the action. "Like that. You have to go around. Don't just poke your tongue in and out. It's not your dick." 

Peter tried to nod, but was instead gurgling in agreement. He and Wade had been at it for thirty minutes and, not for lack of trying, Peter wasn’t getting Wade’s technique.

“I think you’re just digging the attention right now,” Wade said, pulling his hand from the back of Peter’s neck.

“Am not, just…trying to remember what you taught me,” Peter lied, while he was honestly thinking of why he didn’t suggest something like it sooner.

“Not with all that blood rushing to your little Peter.” Wade leaned into Peter again and smirked when his friend leaned after him. “You are getting hard over this aren’t you?”

Peter shoved his friend away with a scoff, “No.”

Wade grinned, his lips brushing against Peter’s. He walked his fingers up Peter’s leg and hooked onto one of his belt loops. “Admit it. You’re enjoying this.”

Peter shook his head slightly, “Shut up, I’m trying to learn.” He leaned in and kissed Wade, slipping his tongue between his friend’s lips. Peter circled his tongue around Wades, then pulled away with soft clearing of his throat. “How about that?”

Wade sat, slightly stunned while Peter sat back far enough to see the look on his face. He raised his brows at the blond boy, his mouth agape in shock. Wade cleared his throat, then sat back before pushing his hair from his eyes.

“Y-yeah, just like that.”

Peter’s smile grew on his lips then shoved his friend away, “The student becomes the master.”

 “Bet you can’t do it two times in a row,” Wade said, licking his lips with a smirk.

“You wish.”

Wade reached for the back of Peter’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. Peter’s hands braced either side of Wade’s crossed legs, leaning further into him with a hum. His hands balled into fists, fighting his eyes fluttering close as he showed Wade again the new trick he learned.

“Wade, you left your stupid boxers in the washer. They’re wet and you haven’t…” Wanda began, knocking on Peter’s door before opening it. “Oh god, Peter.”

Peter pulled away with an abrupt cough, pulling back from Wade as he wiped his mouth. Wade turned over his shoulder and glared at Wanda in the doorway then exhaled.

“You have some shitty timing, you know that, Witch?”

“Bite me, Burn Ward. Get your gross underwear out of the washer or clean them,” Wanda said, hiding a grimace from her brother before shutting the door back.

Peter ran his hand across his face with a groan, then looked down at Wade. His friend raised his head and chuckled, “They’re not wet from water.”

“You’re disgusting,” Peter said, swatting Wade in the chest.

“You’re the one with his tongue in my mouth. Didn’t really see you complaining.” Wade shoved Peter back.

Peter shut his eyes and shook his head, “Go…do your chores before Dad and Steve get back.” Since Wanda barged in, he realized how odd they were acting.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Pete. Just think of it as…CPR training.” Wade slipped off of the bed and walked out of the room. “You better not have touched them, Wanda. I don’t want your stench on my delicates.”

Peter uncrossed his legs and huffed, running his hands over his thighs before adjusting himself in his pants. “Damn it.”

 

“Half of the time, I love Steve for him being so sweet but the other half of the time, he’s a goddamn pushover,” Tony said, sitting forward with a huff. He’d been rambling for a half hour about small faults that were in no way helpful to their situation.

T’Challa stopped writing ten minutes in, realizing that he should let Tony finish his thoughts before speaking again. Even Steve got comfortable in his half of the couch, waiting until his husband was finished. He had to stop saying ‘language’ halfway through Tony’s talking because it was only egging him on more.

When Tony decided to take a deep breath in, Steve and T’Challa exhaled. The therapist clicked his pen and looked back through his notes.

“I think we’ve got enough basics for now. I’d like to suggest that you two spend some time alone together, maybe to a movie or dinner. As a probationary thing, like a friend date,” T’Challa said, tapping the tip of his pen on the edge of his planner.

Tony glanced at Steve, then crossed his arms again. “What, is this homework?”

T’Challa pursed his lips, reached for his glasses and pulled them from his face. “It is more of a healthy exercise in your relationship. Both of you have made the effort to be here, meaning that you are both willing to try anything to fix the faults. We will have to come back to the main reason you are here later, but for now, try and make nice with the person next to you. Put yourselves first for a night.”

“If that’s what you suggest,” Steve said, reaching over the couch to rest his hand on Tony’s knee. “I’m sure we can accommodate.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone in the house goes out for the night.

Tony stood outside of the townhouse building, watching Steve round the back of his car before throwing open the driver's door. He folded his hands in his pockets, staring at Steve as he squinted at the brightness of the day. 

"We should go on a date," Steve said, more to himself, staring down the road until he crossed his arms on top of the car. 

He looked over to Tony, still on the stairs of the therapist's office, and raised his brows. 

"Would you go on a date with me, Tone?" He asked, cracking a light smile. 

Tony snapped his look to attention then at Steve, "What?"

"Let's go on a date. It's been a while since we've done something like that," Steve said. "Just, dinner or something. Like the doctor prescribed."

Tony scoffed, "He's not even a real doctor." 

"He has his doctorate."

"He can't give us a proper diagnosis." 

Steve looked away, almost shocked by Tony, with an exhale. He pulled his hands back from the top of the car and rested his hands on his hips. 

"Tony, he's here to talk to us. He can't fix us in a day." Steve exhaled, shutting the door before circling around the front of the car. "Come on, I'll treat you real nice. If you want, I'll take you home right after dinner and I can wait by the phone for three days until you call me back.”

“Steve,” Tony began.

Steve walked up the stairs and stopped a step before Tony. He looked up at him, squinting his eyes to glare back into Tony’s sunglasses. “Come on, Tony. Honey. One night. We can go up the street and get some cheeseburgers, but please. Just you and me, huh?”

Tony pursed his lips in though, “’You and me’ hasn’t been that way since you fucked Bucky. Oh no, I’m sorry, since Bucky fucked you.”

“Tony,” Steve exhaled, turning his look down to his feet. “This’d be good for us. We can forget about that for right now.”

“It’s not just something to forget, Steve,” Tony said, poking his tongue between his lips while his eyes stung at the impending tears.

“I’m trying,” Steve said, taking a step up to Tony, “believe me, I am. You said therapy, and I’m here. The therapist said a date, I agreed. I’m trying, is all. I just want one night.”

Tony looked over Steve’s shoulder, not wanting to feel him any closer than he already was. He shifted his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders back in a shrug before reaching to pull his glasses from his face.

“You’re the reason why we’re here, Steve. You screwed up in the first place. Don’t blame this on me when you’re the one breaking bonds.” Tony pulled his hand out from his pocket and pressed his palm to Steve’s chest. He felt the warmth of Steve under his fingers, the broadness of his chest until he pushed Steve away.

 

Back at the house, Steve stood before the television staring at Vis, Wanda and Peter on the couch.

“We won’t be gone long. Peter, you’re in charge. There’s money on the kitchen counter for pizza and ice cream in the fridge. Don’t invite friends over and don’t leave the house,” Steve said, pacing before the television while he waited for Tony to come back downstairs.

“If you need us, the number to the restaurant is by the phone. Make sure you guys lock the door when we leave.” Steve looked around to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything else.

“We’ll be good, Papa. Don’t you worry,” Wanda added, shifting her head around Steve’s body in front of the television.

“Yeah, Steve, we’ll be angels.” Wade ducked his head out from the laundry room, moving his damp clothes to the dryer.

“Okay, I can believe you,” Steve pointed at his daughter, “but you keep an eye on him.” He motioned towards Wade with a nod.

“Mr. Rogers, you flatter me,” Wade said, batting a hand out with a grin for fake modesty.

Steve looked to Peter and he nodded that he’d keep an eye on his friend. Tony stood in the hallway upstairs, listening to Steve talk to the kids while he circled the ring on his left finger. It felt heavier the more he touched it, and the thought alone sickened him.

_I hate that I’m giving you this chance. I love you but I can’t stand to go down these stairs._

Tony swallowed the hardened lump in his throat and grabbed the stair rail. He forced himself to take the first step and slowly made his way downstairs.

“Hey,” Tony nodded to Steve when he reached the bottom floor.

“You ready to go, Tony?” Steve asked, moving out of the way of the television. The kids exhaled in relief, returning to their show.

Steve rounded the couch and gave Wanda a peck on top of her head, then reached to ruffle the boys’ hair.

“When will you guys be back?” Pete asked, turning to rest his arm across the back of the couch.

Steve looked to Tony. Tony cleared his throat, straightened out his sport coat and looked at his oldest son. “We’ll be in by nine, okay?”

Peter nodded, “Okay.” The kids turned around on the couch to watch Steve and Tony leave, then Vis got up to lock the door after them.

Wade emerged from the laundry room with a basket full of his clothes. He passed behind the three on the couch and dropped the basket at the foot of the stairs.

“Alright, kiddies. The big boys are going out tonight.”

Wanda scoffed, “What, are you two going to a circle jerk while they’re gone?”

“I said we’re going out, Wanda, not coming out.”

“Coming out of where?” Vis asked, looking between the two teenagers sneering at each other.

“Don’t…listen to them, Vis. They’re being stupid,” Peter said, reaching to pat Vis’s shoulder. He pushed off of the couch and made his way to the kitchen. “Wanda will be in charge, okay? We’ll leave you the money for pizza or whatever, but you guys can not tell Dad or Steve.”

Wanda turned around on the couch and crossed her arms, “And what do we get out of it?”

Peter looked at Wade and his friend shrugged. “My eternal love and devotion.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes then looked back at Wade, “How about…you and lover boy here drop me and Vis off at a friend’s and we’ll call it square.”

Peter furrowed his brows at his sister then asked, “Who’s your friend?”

 

Vis and Wanda waited on the stoop of the townhouse for someone to answer. Vis had knocked three times, and held onto Wanda’s hand while they started to shake from the cold. Peter and Wade hightailed it from the street and drove west of town for something to do.

Vis looked over his shoulder to see his brother’s car speed off then back as the front door opened to a tall blonde man with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck.

“Vis, Wanda? How are you guys? What’re you doing here?” Thor asked, looking out onto the street, over the kids’ heads.

“Thor, they’re with me.” A voice called out from inside the house.

Wanda hurriedly looked around the large man in the doorway to see the thin, pale boy at the dining table. She raised her hand in a sort of wave when Loki looked over at her. He shrugged slightly.

“Brother, let them in,” he said.

Thor shifted out of the way of the door and Wanda led Vis inside. She let go of Vis’s hand and stood before Loki at the table.

“Wanna catch a movie?” he asked, raking his fork across his half-empty dinner plate.

Vis walked into the living room and looked at the small selection of movies, “What do you guys want to watch?”

“Not you, shrimp,” Loki said before looking up at Wanda, “You. Witch girl.”

Vis exhaled and sat down on the couch, folding his hands in his lap defeatedly. Wanda looked over to her brother, then back at Loki.

“Sure, but what about Vis.”

Thor shut the door firmly and walked into the living room, glancing over to Vis sitting on the couch, appearing as small as he possibly could. “Would you like to go to dinner, Vis? Do you like Chinese food?”

Vis looked up at the kind man across the room, then Wanda and back. “What about them?”

“They’re big kids, they can fend for themselves. If you want, you can tell me about your books,” Thor said, putting on his jacket. “We’ll drop them off and go get some cheeseburgers, huh?”

 

Wade put his arm around Peter’s shoulders while they waited in line at the movie theater.

“This is your idea of a big night out?” Peter asked, craning his neck to look at Wade.

“Look, what were you expecting? You’re lucky you’re worth this,” Wade said, resting his chin on top of Peter’s head. “I mean, you’re a good kisser. This ‘oughta make up for that.”

“Wow. Wade Wilson, you’re my hero,” Peter said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“You better appreciate it, otherwise I’ll kiss you again.”

Peter looked over Wade’s arm to see if anyone from school was behind them. There wasn’t. Pete turned and saw the side of Wade’s face lit up by the awning lights of the theater. _Do it too. I dare you._

“Please don’t,” he said, shoving his hands into Wade’s side to keep him away.

“Don’t be like that. You know you love my ass, and everything around it.”

Peter shook his head and trailed after Wade, stepping up to the box office.

“Two for…whatever’s playing right now.”

“You don’t even care?” Peter asked.

Wade looked down at Peter and grinned, “Shut up.” He turned back to the cashier and dug into his pocket to pull out a ten-dollar bill.

The cashier exchanged the tickets for the money and Wade led Peter inside. They stopped just inside the lobby and looked around the quiet area. Wade pulled his arm from Peter’s shoulder and instead took his hand.

“Come on, Stark. Let’s find some nudity.”

Peter’s face scrunched up in slight disgust, “Why would you want to watch that with me?”

Wade smiled back at his friend, stopping before a theater, “Who wouldn’t want to share that with their best bud?”

Peter shook his head as Wade pulled him into a dark theater, one that was empty. They ran up the stairs to find a place in the middle of the theater, then sat down next to each other. Peter sat back with an exhale, stretching his legs out while the previews started.

Wade stretched his arms out behind Peter’s head and groaned. “Alright, I’m bored.”

“We just got here,” Peter said, “just relax, okay?” He reached out to pat Wade’s knee but pulled back at the last moment.

Wade curled his hand behind Peter’s neck and pulled him in with a hum of agreement. He leaned into his friend and stared into the place of Peter’s eyes. “Ease my mind a bit?”

He leaned in and edged his lips towards Pete’s, only for Peter to stiffen up. The door opened and Peter immediately pulled away, ducking down to see who was walking in.

“What’re you doing?” Wade asked.

Peter reached for Wade’s arm and pulled him down as well, both of them watching the two people find a seat in the theater. Peter narrowed his eyes at the couple just before they sat down, seeing the girl tuck her hair behind her ear.

The boy combed his hair back, even though it was already gleaming with gel. Pete looked over to Wade and whispered, “I think that’s Wanda.”

“Really? With who?” Wade popped his head up but Pete pulled him back down.

“The ice cream boy, Loki.”

Wade furrowed his brows together, “The senior? How’d your sister score that?”

“Shut up.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter and Wade try to get home, Thor and Vis have dinner and Steve and Tony come together to be good parents.

Peter kept looking between the seats of the dark theater, at the back of his sister's chair. 

"What're we doing down here? They can't see us," Wade said directly into Peter's war. He had to admit that his friend was right, and it wasn't a surprise that they were there. 

It was only surprising that Wanda was there with anyone, especially a senior like Loki. Peter sat up on his knees and hissed for his sister's attention. He continued to try to get his sister's attention, during the loud previews, to no avail. 

Wade pulled himself to his feet and waited, watching Peter's failed attempts at stealth. Loki put his arm around Wanda's shoulder and Wade cleared his throat before calling out. "Hey witch."

Peter froze, ducking behind a seat as Wanda turned around. "Burn Ward? What're you- Where's Peter?"

Wade bent down and grabbed Peter's shirt, pulling him up from his hiding place. "Hi Wanda."

Wanda narrowed her eyes at her older brother and his friend. Loki turned around in his seat and asked who they were. "My brother...and his boyfriend."

Peter looked to Wade, wide-eyed, and Wade scoffed. "I don't get tied down so easily. I'm Wade by the way." He looked to Loki and Peter saw him smile. 

Loki nodded once, "I'm aware of you. I've seen you in the halls." 

Wade clenched his hand on Peter's shoulder," So, you looking for a make-out tutor?" 

Peter shrugged Wade's hand away, a little frustrated by his flirting, "Where's Vis?" 

 

Vis sat across from Thor in a diner, dipping a few fries in his chocolate milkshake. Thor had suggested the kid try it for his sake. 

He sat and waited, with a smile, as Vis ate the milkshake fries. "Well, what do you think, youngling?"

Vis couldn't help but grin, "It's good."

"I would never steer you wrong, kid," Thor said, holding back a chuckle, "So, your family's left you behind. Your dads are out?"

Vis nodded, scooping another couple of fries along the top of his milkshake. "And Peter's with Wade."

"His boyfriend, right?" Thor reached across the table and stole the cherry from Vis's shake. 

"Yeah, but I don't really know," Vis said, giggling at Thor when he ate the cherry then grinned innocently. 

"And your sister dates my brother?" Thor asked, hoping that Vis would know more about the situation than he did. 

Vis shrugged his shoulders, "I guess so. She's been closed off so anything is possible."  Thor picked up a couple of fries and dipped them in his vanilla milkshake, "Do you know when your parents are coming home?" 

"Dad said 9:30," Vis said. 

Thor looked at his watch, eating his fries, then nodded. "How is your dad Tony? Haven't seen him in a while." 

"He works a lot so I guess he's been tired." 

Tony sat across from Steve, staring over the top of his menu while Steve studied his. He could only stare at the crease in Steve's forehead, his hairline flexing while he continued watching. Tony couldn't stop himself, only shaking his head before scoffing. 

"Don't focus too hard, I can smell fried brain matter," Tony said, a smirk almost on his face. 

Steve raised his brows and folded his menu to the table. He reached across the table and tapped his finger to the outside of Tony's menu. "Excuse me, sir? Can you tell me what foie gras is?"

Tony's smirk grew into a kind smile before he folded his menu down. "You wanna get out of here? We can grab some burgers on the way home."

Steve grinned then patted his hand to the table, "You've read my mind, Mr. Stark." 

Tony bit back his grin from growing, not wanting to give anymore leeway to Steve than what he already had. 

 

Steve and Tony sat in the middle of a burger joint across town from the restaurant. The car was shut off, the windows rolled down and their sports jackets were tossed into the backseat. Tony's legs were threaded between Steve's while they shared a boat of fries and held their double-loaded cheeseburgers. Tony laughed between chews of his sandwich at Steve's horrible Stevie Nicks' impression. 

"Give to me your leather, take from me my lace," Steve crooned awfully through the crescent he created in his burger. 

"Please stop," Tony chuckled, holding his hand up and waving for Steve to stop. "Wait, wait, wait, hit that high note again."

Steve grinned at his husband then ran his tongue over his teeth, " Lovers face to face, my city your mountains." He raised his horrible singing voice up to its highest octave and held it there until Tony keeled forward in laughter. 

"There it is," Tony said, setting his burger down on the dashboard, "God, I needed that laugh." 

Steve smiled at his husband, "I'm happy to oblige. You're something of a grumpy gus."

"You wanna start me up again, Rogers? Because we can go back over this again." 

"No, no, let's keep it light." 

Tony exhaled, then reached across to gently pat Steve's cheek, "Okay, lover."

Steve sat up straighter and grinned, "If only the ice cream parlor was open, we could top this night off with some double scoops." 

"Yeah, maybe another time. We should probably head on home to the kids." 

Steve nodded, "Yeah, I think we should." 

 

Peter and Wade left the theater with Wanda and Loki in tow. "We gotta get home before Dad and Steve get home. I can drop Loki off at home then-"

"Hey Petey," a voice called from the street. Peter froze when looked over his shoulder to see Tony leaning out of the window of Steve's car. 

The car shifted into park and Steve leaned towards the window. "Loki, Wade, get in the car."

"Aww, Steve, you got some candy for me?" Wade asked from behind Peter.

Tony held back a roll of his eyes, just as Steve rested his forehead to Tony's shoulder, hiding back a chuckle. "Steve, get it together. Be good cop," he whispered over his shoulder before turning back to his son and daughter. "Peter, take your sister home and wait for us there." 

Peter exhaled, a sense of dread weighting on his shoulders. "Okay. Come on, Wanda. Wade." 

Steve and Tony looked at each other, "Does he really have to go, Ton? You see what Pete's done for the kid? Come on." 

Tony exhaled, narrowing his eyes at Steve, "A little too much, good cop. He can't stay."

"This is the only slip up from them. Wade probably didn't even call this together." 

"We'll talk to him, alright?" Tony asked in a whisper then turned back to the kids. "No, Peter. Wade's gotta come with us." 

"But Dad-"

"Listen to your father, Peter. Wade's gotta come with us," Steve said. 

Peter reached for Wade's hand and squeezed it tightly. Steve leaned into Tony's ear, watching the moment as it happened. "What's up with that? Should we talk to him?" 

"Which him, Steve? My kid or the crazy one?" 

"They're cute together," Steve whispered back. 

"If only cute was enough," Tony patted his husband's cheek, "Reel it in, puppy love." 

"Dad, please. I-I told him we should go out."

Steve whispered into Tony's ear, "You believe that?" 

"Not entirely," Tony whispered back, "but I think we should keep up with this." 

Wade exhaled, "Peter-"

"No Wade. I-I did it. Guys, please don't take him home." Peter almost started begging, and Loki and Wanda had to turn away from him. His frustration was building quickly, hot tears almost forming in his eyes.  _I got punched for this. I wanted you to stay. I don't want you to go back._

"What's going on at home?" Tony asked lowly. 

"Heck if I know, Ton. That kid is a steel vault inside." 

"Stark," Wade said, pulling his hand from Peter's and resting it on his friend's shoulder, "It's okay. I'll just see you at school." 

"Have we gone too far on this?" Steve whispered. 

"No, I think I really want him to go home, Steve. Let's just see how it unfolds." Tony glanced over his shoulder to Steve resting his chin on him, who shook his head. "Let's go Wade, Loki." 

Peter watched Wade walk towards the car but rushed to hug him at the last moment. Wade spared a chuckle, looking under his arm and down at his friend. "I'm not dying, Pete. It'll be okay." 

"But-" Peter looked up at Wade.  _I don't want you to go back to him._

"I'll be okay," Wade said, as if reading Peter's thoughts, "Now let go."

Peter gulped and did as he was told with Tony narrowing his eyes at his eldest son. 

"Go home guys. We'll talk when we get there." 

 

Vis had fallen asleep on the ride back and Thor easily hoisted the kid onto his shoulder, carrying him up to the front door to unlock it. He forced the key into the lock and turned it before forcing the door open with his foot. 

"There once was a sprite named Vis, an intellectual before his entire fleet of forest elders. And a nice kid he was, hanging out and talking to a tree man named Thor," Thor rambled as he reached to turn the lights in his home, then stepped inside. Just as he reached to shut the door behind him, a palm pressed against the door and Loki stormed inside without a word. 

"Brother," Thor called after Loki, watching his little brother ascend the stairs with a grimace. 

"Don't worry about him," a voice said from the stoop. Thor looked over his empty shoulder and saw Tony leaning against the doorway. "He's a little upset because we cut into his grope session with my daughter." 

"Tony, I apologize for my brother's behav-"

Tony waved his hand to stop Thor's apology. "Really, I don't know if your brother was trying to mess around with Wanda, but I'm bad cop tonight so..."

Thor furrowed his brows and glanced over Tony's shoulder to see Steve in the car with Peter's boyfriend. "Bad cop?" He straightened up, adjusting the sleeping kid hoisted on his shoulder. 

"And I see you've been an accomplice in all this," Tony said, straightening up and holding both arms out for his son. 

Thor glanced at Tony's stature, then at the small twelve-year-old on his shoulder. "I can carry him to the car." 

Tony raised his brows at Thor as he breezed past him, his hulking stature shadowing over Tony's slim frame. "I guess you could do that. As long as you don't throw your back out," Tony said, following Thor to Steve's running car. 

"I think I've got him, Tony," Thor said as Wade opened the back door of the car. He bent down and settled the kid down gently before nodding to Steve and waving at Wade. 

"Thank you...for looking out for Vis," Tony said, watching the large man buckle Vis's seatbelt. He pressed his lips together and Thor stood upright, shutting the door firmly. 

"It's no problem. He's a good kid." Thor rested his hand on Tony's shoulder and squeezed, "Don't be hard on him." 

"Don't worry, he's gotten the shit end tonight," Tony said. 

Thor nodded, then let go of Tony's shoulder. He leaned forward to wave at Steve through the window then smiled and told Tony goodnight. 

"Goodnight," Tony said, raising a brow at Thor as he walked back up the stairs to his townhouse. He tilted his head after the athletic man's sweatpants tight around his thighs before Steve cleared his throat and Wade wolf-whistled from the back. 

 

 

Steve pulled his car into the driveway and parked the car. Tony turned around, tapped Vis's knee to wake him then looked at Wade. 

"We gotta talk to you."

"Shoot, Papa Bear," Wade said, shifting back with his arms crossed. "You gonna let me go inside to Peter?"

"Hell no," Tony said, pointing at the kid. Steve glanced at Tony, shutting the car off as Vis climbed out and went inside the house. 

"Tone, language. Why can't he go back inside? You saw how Peter was worried about him?" 

"Yeah, what was that about, anyways? Why is my-our son so sob story over you, the gutter punk?" 

"Aww, Mr. Stark, you flatter me. Really, that's personal. Your son's a sweet guy and, what happens between his sheets, stays there," Wade said with a deviant grin. 

Tony chuckled dryly, then turned to Steve, "You hear what he said about our kid?"

"Honey, you gotta be rational."

"Yeah,  _honey_ , be rational. Let me go inside to Pete. He's a good kid."

"Yes, he is, Wade. I just think that you two have been spending too much time together," Tony said. 

"What? You gonna shame me for liking your son? Pot calling the kettle black?"

Tony looked to Steve and rolled his eyes. "Wade...just, go home. Spend at least a week there. Call Peter when he's not grounded."

"I'd much rather take grounding than going home," Wade muttered, straightening up. Steve looked over his shoulder and saw Wade looked down at his crossed arms. 

"Tony, come on."

"Steve, I'm bad cop. It's finished. Go get your stuff, Wade. And don't linger." 

Wade exhaled, unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing his door open before slamming it. Tony turned around, looking through the windshield with Steve as Wade flipped them off. 

"And you wanted him to stay," Tony said. 

"He's a good kid around Pete," Steve said, turning to watch the kid storm inside and slam the front door. "Hey, we did good tonight." 

Tony nodded, "You know, good cop, it wasn't a full shit night." Steve pointed at him and Tony raised his hands in a chuckle, "Sorry, language. But you're right." 

"I'm right. Did you just say I'm right?" Steve grinned, leaning in to clutch Tony's chin for a kiss. 

Tony froze, then pressed a hand to Steve's chest, "Hey, hey now. Easy tiger." He gritted his teeth inside and thought about what Steve had done again. The thought only upset him more. "You go. Take the little badass home. I'll talk to the kids." 

Just as he said that, Wade slammed his hands on the hood of Steve's car. Tony pulled away from Steve and opened the door, allowing Wade to climb into the passenger seat. 

"Let's get this shit over with then. Hey, tell lover boy to keep that bed warm." Wade called out to Tony as Steve turned the car on and put it in reverse. 

"Steve, you know that Pete and I are close," Wade said, leaning over to Steve.

"Yes, Wade. I'm aware of that." Steve put the car into drive on the main road then kept going straight though Steve wasn't sure where he was going. "Where do you live?"

"Oh, take a left at 'fuck your husband' and then a right at 'make him kiss my ass'." 

"Wade, you better watch it or I'll-"

"Or you'll what? Take me home?" Wade asked before pushing his bag to the floor. "I live in those shithole apartments down by the lush avenue." 

Steve started to roll his eyes but stopped halfway through the action. "What floor?" He didn't want the thought to be true, that there was something so close to fruition. It was tempting. Steve didn't know if he could really hold onto the thought for too long. 

"What do you care? Wanna walk me up to my fucking door?"

"I really wish you would watch your language." 

"I really wish you'd bite me, Mr. Rogers."

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with Wade rolling the window up and down. When Steve pulled to the curb in front of Wade's apartment complex, he shut his car off. He could almost taste it on his tongue. Good whiskey.  _Damn it._ He wanted to see him. 

"I'm comin' up," Steve said, pocketing his keys and following Wade out of the car. 

"What a gentleman," Wade mocked with a feigned swoon. The kid walked inside and started up the stairs with Steve following in tow. Each step made Steve's heart sink a little further and his heart went drier. 

"You're not gonna die on me, are you, Pops?" Wade asked at the third floor. 

 _Not until I reach the top._ "Not yet," Steve said. 

"You really didn't have to go all this way for little old me." 

_But it's not all for you._

At the fourth floor, Steve stopped and exhaled, never realizing how long it took to get where he was now. "Alright kid, be safe." 

"Fuck you."

"Hey-"

"Sorry. Fuck you, Steve," Wade said, going to his front door and knocking. 

"Hey, I was advocating for you to stay. Be a little grateful, huh?" 

Wade waved his hand out as the front door creaked open and he crept inside. Steve stood in the hallway, only staring at the line of doors before him. He knew which one he wanted to go in, and he knew where he had to go.  _Damn it._ Steve walked up to the apartment door down from Wade's and knocked heavily, hoping that his call wouldn't go unanswered. His heart rushed in his chest the more he beat the dark wood of the door. 

"Jesus fuck, stop with the fucking knocking --" Bucky yelled from the back of the door until he yanked it open. 

Steve's fist was suspended in the air, staring at Bucky in the doorway wearing dark jeans. He lowered his hand and forced it into Buck's back pocket before leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

"Take me in," Steve whispered, "Love me."

Bucky smiled, his hands resting along Steve's jaw and his fingers almost touching his blonde hair. "With pleasure, kid." He pulled him inside and shut the door behind them. 


	15. Chapter 15

Bucky shrugged off Steve’s blazer and buried his face in the man’s neck, lapping at his skin and nipping. Steve’s hands gripped at Buck’s hips, pulling him close to rub the seam of his zipper against his thigh.

He exhaled, tilted his head back and reveled in the warmth that Bucky gave off. Steve felt that he didn’t need to speak, Bucky already knew what to do with him.

Peter stormed upstairs to his room as Tony walked inside the house. He exhaled, watching his son stamp his feet up the steps then slam the door.

“Peter,” Tony called from the base of the stairs. “Peter, come down here. Let’s talk about Wade.”

Tony waited for a moment. The bedroom door opened and Peter stopped at the top stair.

“Why’d you send him home? Dad, he wasn’t—”

“Don’t you start that. We both know that he came up with sneaking out.” Tony shook his head, walking into the living room and watching Peter slowly descend halfway down the stairs.

Peter opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked around, hoping to find Steve as his advocate but it was just him and his father.

“Dad, okay, yes, he did come up with it but I didn’t talk him out of it. It’s just as much of my fault. Why send him home?” Peter balled his hand into a fist and pressed it into his back pocket.

Tony looked in the direction of the front window, expecting Steve’s headlights to roll back in any minute. “Because he’s a bad kid.”

“He is not,” Peter raised his voice, grabbing the rail and leaning forward. Tony flinched slightly at the volume in Peter’s voice, looked at him and narrowed his eyes.

“He’s not, okay? He’s my best friend.” Peter reeled back and cleared his throat, looking back upstairs.

Even though Wade had been through the room to grab his things, he left half of his clothes behind. He left his toothbrush in the bathroom and his Calculus textbook on Peter’s desk. _He belongs here._

“Honey, I think you two should spend some time apart.” Tony started, only to stop when Peter snapped a glare at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you too have been getting too close,” Tony said, only realizing what he was saying after the fact.

Peter’s face contorted in a grimace of shock and disgust. “You’re kidding me. He’s my _friend._ ”

Tony held back a scoff, only pursed his lips in disbelief as he folded his hands over his hips. “Right. Wanda told me about what you two were doing the other day.”

Peter’s vision tunneled as he narrowed his eyes, ready to bound up the stairs and burst into Wanda’s room. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he got there, but he was almost angry enough to trash her tapes.

“That little snitch witch.”

“Hey, take it easy. That’s your sister.” Tony pointed at Peter, hid back a frown from seeing himself turn into his father. He had to be happy to not have any siblings.

“Bullshit,” Peter bit out, leaning over the rail. “You never adopted her.”

Tony raised his voice then. “Hey! That’s none of your concern. She is your sister no matter what, Peter Benjamin.” He looked to the window again, exhaled deeply. “Look, the boy is dirty. I don’t want you catching something from him.”

“Dad.” Peter responded pointedly, though the comment stung him inside. “You don’t just send him back home. You can’t just do that.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s already done, Pete. He’s gonna stay there a while.”

Peter gulped back what he wanted to say, stared at his father with both fists now shoved into his pockets. _His dad’s gonna kill him._

“And you’re grounded, two weeks.”

Steve bent over the kitchen counter, feeling Bucky’s hand slide down his back before parting his cheeks and teasing around his hole.

He lurched forward, biting back an urge to swear and moan at the same time. Bucky slowly eased a finger in, curled it into a hook and relieved some of Steve’s tension. His pants around his ankles, Steve grabbed hold of his thickened member, dribbling at the tip from Bucky’s lengthy touch.

“I need you,” Steve found himself saying, unable to hold back the warmth of pleasure pitted in his stomach.

“I need you too.” Bucky leaned over Steve’s back, peppering his rippled back with sloppy kisses and tender lovebites. He fisted his member, teased his tip at Steve’s hole as he sank his teeth into Steve’s muscled shoulder.

He hissed inwardly, feeling his come drip down his fingers. Steve stepped out of his pants and spread his legs farther, ready to take Bucky in.

Tony watched Peter storm back upstairs, then jumped in place when he heard the door slam. _That could’ve gone better._ He looked at the window again, shook his head and tried not to think of it.

If it was anything, it was traffic. Tony had to reassure himself that what could happen wasn’t actually. Steve said it was a mistake, that he’d try to do better by Tony.

Tony could only trust his word.

Except he couldn’t. He clenched his hands to fists, then went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before going upstairs. Tony couldn’t let himself be so stupid, if Steve was gone this long, he was with Bucky.

He shook his head. _It’s in the past._ Tony reminded himself what was talked about at therapy then stopped halfway upstairs. _Don’t be so stupid._

Turning in the direction of a car approaching, Tony ducked his head down to peer through the window. It wasn’t Steve’s car. He felt that he had to pinch himself to get his mind off of it. Tony thought of several other horrible things that could’ve happened to Steve, but the worst was that he was perfectly fine, sharing a bed with Bucky.

Bucky eased his stiff member between Steve’s cheeks, pulling a lengthy moan from both of them. Steve levelled his stomach to the counter, his hands gripping the edge while he rested on his chin. Bucky’s hands gripped tightly at Steve’s hips and deepened himself.

Both men groaned in pleasure and Bucky ran his tongue between Steve’s shoulder blades. “I love you,” Bucky breathed into Steve’s ear.

Steve fought back the pleasure rushing through him as his stomach knotted in guilt. He felt so close to falling apart, but only emotionally.

“I love you too,” Steve panted, reaching to run his fingers through Bucky’s slick brown hair.

Bucky pressed his lips against the nape of Steve’s neck, thrusting slowly into him and drawing out more moans of pleasure.

 

Steve woke up in the middle of the night, the light from the kitchen interrupting him. He looked over his shoulder, squinting in the direction of the light.

Bucky stood at the counter, sweatpants low-riding his hips while his hair cascaded behind his shoulders. Steve slowly sat up, feeling the sheets fall down his back and his limp member sliding against the damp mattress.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered, looking over to Steve. “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked, the heel of his palm rubbing against his temple. He looked around the rest of the studio apartment, noted his clothes scattered across the floor. “What time is it?”

Bucky leaned against the counter, facing Steve, as he popped the lid to his takeout box. “A little after midnight…do you have to go?”

“No,” Steve said quickly, only for him to clear his throat and sit up further on his knees. “No, I don’t have to go anywhere.”

Bucky smiled through a mouthful of cold udon noodles. He chewed through the strings hanging from his lips then set the box on the counter. Steve straightened up in bed, curling the bedsheet around his waist.

Bucky finished chewing his midnight snack then wiped his bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I’ve missed you.”

Steve hummed in response, looking into Bucky’s deep blue eyes. “I love you, Buck.” He reached up to grab at the pockets of Bucky’s sweatpants then pulled him close to kiss him. _I wanted to say that since I saw you again._

“Steve.” Buck leaned away from Steve’s affection and framed his face with his rough hands. “What about Tony?”

Steve paused, he still had Tony and the kids. But Wanda already knew about Bucky, knew him from a different time. Inside, Steve’s stomach knotted. He wanted to stay, and it was the only good option now.

He’d made his bed, now he was lying in it. Tony would only kick him out, and there would be no more warmth in the house anymore. Already, he was remembering Peter and Vis’s faces, their smiles and the last time they said ‘I love you’ or called him ‘Dad’.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve said, looking down and back up at Bucky. “I should tell him…that it happened again.”

Bucky ran his fingers along Steve’s hairline, then furrowed his brows at him. “Then what?”

 _Then I’ll kiss my boys goodbye._ “Then I’ll come back to you.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve goes home and everyone goes about their week as usual.

Steve woke up early in the morning, with Bucky still sleeping beside him. The man's arm was draped across the top of Steve's pillow while he slept soundly, mouth agape and drooling.  _Some things don't change._

He sat up quietly and pulled Bucky's long hair from his face. Steve bent over and pressed his lips to the man's forehead then climbed out of bed.  _I'll come back to you._ He scooped up his clothes in his arms and tiptoed for the door, knowing that he'd have to jar it open to not let it creak. As he made his way out of the apartment, Steve wrestled on his pants and stomped into his shoes then started down the stairs as he pulled on his shirt. 

The apartment door down the hall creaked open, with Wade peeking out to see Mr. Rogers leaving. 

 

Tony woke up to the clatter of dishes downstairs. The jolt of his body thrust him into the empty side of Steve's bed and he couldn't help but exhale in defeat.  _He did it. He really did._

He took his sweet time climbing out of bed, putting on his bed slippers and shuffling out of the room and downstairs to see all of the kids at the breakfast table. Even Peter, who was still sulking over the argument they had the night before. 

"Who wants blueberry pancakes?" Steve asked, holding up a spatula with four golden brown pancakes on it. He had an apron tied around his waist and his grey t-shirt powdered with flour. Vis and Wanda both held up their hands. "Alright, we've got two blueberry pancakes for my two munchkins. Now for the big kid, who is still a little grumpy, I have his favorite." 

Steve nodded to Vis and Wanda. They both started to drum on the table with their silverware. Tony spectated from the stairs, not remembering a breakfast like this one in a while. 

"We have the one, the only, the super king of hillbilly rock himself. The Elvis-Presely-Peanut-Butter-Bananarama-Chocolate pancakes! Not meant for any other meal substitute, this is strictly for Peter's sad times that are only made by the one and only Steven Grant Rogers." Steve threw his voice to sound like an announcer, only to speed up towards the end like an informercial.

Tony folded a hand over his mouth to hide a chuckle as Steve held onto the pan and scooted behind Peter to drop the small stack of special pancakes on his plate. 

"It'll be okay, bud." Steve whispered before kissing the top of Peter's head. "Let's get to eating, kids. I'm doing carpool today." He looked up to see Tony standing by the stairs. "Hey honey. Don't think I left you out. I got you a cup of coffee, some nice hashbrowns and an egg on toast." 

Steve held a hand out for Tony to take, wiggling his fingers until Tony ehxaled and crossed the living room to take his husband's hand. Steve pulled back the seat next to Peter and made Tony sit down. 

"Good morning," Steve said, grabbing Tony's mug from the counter and leaning in to kiss his lips, "by the way." 

Peter scoffed at the sight and poked at the banana chunk in his pancake. Tony turned to him then turned to his breakfast plate made by Steve. 

"Did you sleep on the couch last night?" Tony asked, looking over the top of Wanda's head and in the living room. There were blankets folded neatly on the couch and a pillow from their bed upstairs. 

"Yeah, I really didn't want to wake you." Steve started to clean up the kitchen while he could. "Plus you were sleeping on your stomach. Did not want to try to wake you." 

Tony spared a chuckle at his husband as he looked down at his coffee. "You should've tried. I was worried about you." 

Steve smiled while he scrubbed the bacon pan in hot, soapy water. "Yeah, I bet. Trying to get his address is like pulling teeth from him." 

"But was he okay? When he left?" Peter spoke up, leaning before his dad to look at Steve. 

He turned to look at the oldest kid and furrowed his brows, "Yeah, Pete. Why wouldn't he be?"

 

Peter noticed that Wade wasn't at school that day, or the next. He wasn't at school until Friday, and only then did he show up halfway to lunch. 

"What's up, Stark?" He said, his voice a thick rasp. It couldn't go any higher than a whisper and Peter leaned forward to hear his friend. 

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, watching his friend slowly descend into a chair across from him. His eyes were covered with dark sunglasses and he kept tonguing the corner of his mouth, only drawing more attention to it. 

The thick cut on his bottom lip almost made it protrude out. The gash itself was one its way to healing if Wade stopped licking it like an animal. 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Wade said, looking around the cafeteria. "The rugrats around?"

Peter couldn't get a hold of his surroundings, only worried about Wade lapping at his cut. He slowly shook his head and Wade pushed himself to stand. 

"Good. Come on, I need your help with something." 

Peter left his food tray at the table then grabbed his backpack and followed Wade out of the cafeteria, down the hall, to the bathroom under the stairwell. 

"Get in here," Wade said, grabbing onto Peter's pack strap and pushing him into a stall. Peter found himself sitting on the toilet seat and disguising a grunt of disgust. 

"Wade, what's going on?" Peter asked as his friend locked the stall behind him. 

Wade didn't say anything, only turned away from Peter and tugged the back of his shirt up to his shoulders. Peter immediately looked away as soon as he saw it, the cluster of bruises along Wade's back, each one ringed with yellow and punctuated with purple. 

"I...I need you to look, okay?" Wade said from under his shirt. "Because I can't see it all. Are any of these black?" 

The fact that Wade was aware of how many there were was gut-churning. Peter shut his eyes hard and shook his head at himself. "I-I don't know, Wade." 

"Stark, I need you to look." Wade repeated, his voice the same rough octave as before. 

"No, I don't know. I can't." Peter shook his head harder. 

"Peter..."

"I said, I don't know, Wade! Don't make me look, okay? I'm sorry I made this happen to you, I didn't mean for this to happen." Peter exhaled in frustration, opening his eyes to see them blur with tears. 

The bathroom was silent, and Peter looked up to see Wade pulling down his shirt and taking off his glasses. "I was checking for internal bleeding."

"Don't tell me that shit, Wade," Peter said, his voice tainting with his tears billowing to the surface. 

More silence. Wade turned towards Peter, one eye bruised around the socket, red and irritated inside. "Look at this shit. I can barely see out of it." Wade propped his eye as far open as he could to show Peter the small amount of blood sloshing in front of his pupil and iris. 

"Can't you go to the doctor for that? The emergency room?" Peter was more shaken up by Wade's body than Wade himself. He felt his chest almost heave with tears. "You gotta come back. You have to." 

"Your Dad doesn't want me there." 

Peter pressed his lips to his shoulder then rubbed his nose on his sleeve. "But Steve'll vouch for you. He'd never let something like this go."

Wade scoffed, "Yeah, Steve's a stand-up guy." 

Peter reached out to grab his friend's cheek. "Look, you can talk to him today, okay? He's picking us up after school."

Wade didn't have an option to say no. "Okay." 

"Good," Peter said, his mouth twitching to fight back what he wanted to say next. "Even though you look like shit, it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, lover boy. Even if it's with one good eye." 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Steve start to rift.

Steve was called into the site early and cleaned up before leaving Tony with the house to himself. He leaned in, kissed the top of Tony's head and told him he'd be back soon. Tony reached up, bracing his hand against Steve's cheek to kiss him fully on the lips. 

"I missed you last night. I thought..." Tony's words drifted off into a whisper against Steve's lips. 

"I know," Steve said, shutting his eyes and trying not to think about it. Even though it happened. 

He swayed towards Tony's warm palm, but thought about Bucky's embrace instead. Steve's stomach knotted and his eyes shot open. 

"I'll be home later. I'm picking up the kids from school today." 

Tony smiled softly as Steve kissed him on the forehead again. "Look at you, being Wonder Dad." His hand slipped from Steve's cheek and returned to his coffee cup. 

Steve chuckled, grabbing his keys from the counter and started for the front door. "Love you, Tone." 

"You too." Tony lifted his coffee cup as Steve walked out and closed the door behind him. 

As soon as Tony heard Steve start the car, he slid out of his chair and ran to the window. He looked out, watching Steve pull out of the driveway, then went to the phone. Tony took his time dialing Rhodes's home number, trying to calm his shaking hand. 

He braced the counter with his palm, shoved down the uneasy rush in his throat as his friend's phone rang. When the receiver picked up, Tony let out a heavy breath. 

"Tony? What's wrong?" Rhodes asked as Tony tried to piece together his thoughts. His focus went blind as he reached to paw at his own mouth, swiping away any remnant he felt of Steve on him. 

"That lying bastard." 

 

Steve sat in his car, staring at the construction site with the engine idling. His hand hovered on the keys, ready to switch the car off, but the passenger door jarred open. 

"Hey you," Bucky said, climbing into the passenger seat and leaning over to kiss Steve's cheek. 

He exhaled, turned to Buck and returned his kiss. "Hi." 

"You have a good morning with your boys?" 

Steve nodded, reached to comb his fingers through his lover's dark locks. "They're good, mostly. Pete's got boy troubles." 

Bucky chuckled softly, resting his forehead to Steve's before kissing the tip of his nose. "Don't we all, Steve?" 

He scoffed, shaking his head. "It's that Wilson kid. Tony overreacted and kicked him out when Pete begged for him to stay." 

Bucky pulled away, his nose brushing Steve's as he scrunched his face. "Wade Wilson? Steve...that kid doesn't belong at home." 

"What do you mean?" Steve dropped his hand from Bucky's hair to rest on his forearm. 

"That boy's dad, not a good man. You gotta trust me on this, Wade is better off at your house." 

"But you know Tony, he's not into anyone having such an influence on his son. Plus, I'm sure they're more than friends." 

Bucky backed away fully with a furrow of his brow. "You can't be serious. Tony can't be serious. They're boys, Steve. They experiment, and if they like each other, can you really deny them then?" 

Steve wasn't sure how to answer. This was probably one of his first parenting decisions with the boys, and it didn't seem like his. "I've wanted Wade to stay. Peter makes him better behaved." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, I believe it'd be best to read chapter three of 'Come with Me' to see what Wade and Peter get into. The next chapter will glaze over Wade and Peter but get right back into Bucky and Steve.
> 
> Also, thank you for being so patient with me!


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